#they kind of might say it to their face??

[littlelamy]

can you do with rafe and !reader who faints a lot during showers or just gets very lightheaded/has vasovagal episodes and can you just write like the things he does for you?

lamy's notes: i hope you like it!

the first time it happened, rafe didn’t even realize what was going on until he heard the thud. he’d been lying on the bed, scrolling through his phone, when the sound of you hitting the shower floor jolted him upright, his heart slamming in his chest.

he was at the bathroom door in an instant, throwing it open without a second thought. steam billowed out, and there you were, crumpled in the corner of the shower, the water still running over you. his mind went blank with panic for half a second before instinct took over.

“y/n, hey, hey, baby,” he muttered, dropping to his knees beside you, his hands shaking as he reached for you. he turned the water off first, then gently propped you up against the cool tiles. “hey, can you hear me?”

your eyes fluttered open, dazed and unfocused, and he let out a shaky breath, relief crashing through him. “what the hell happened?” he asked, his voice breaking slightly.

“just got… lightheaded,” you mumbled, your words slurring a little. “i’m okay.”

“okay? you scared the shit out of me,” he said, cradling your face in his hands like he was afraid you might disappear if he let go. “jesus, you’re freezing.”

from that day on, he’d made it his mission to make sure it never happened again. if you were going to shower, so was he. it didn’t matter what he was doing; he’d drop everything the second you said you were heading to the bathroom.

“just in case,” he’d say, his tone light but his eyes serious. he’d sit on the counter, cracking jokes and tossing you a towel before you even asked for it, his presence steady and comforting.

some days, when you were especially tired or feeling off, he’d insist on staying right outside the door. “yell if you need me,” he’d call, and you knew he meant it. you could practically picture him sitting there, legs stretched out, scrolling his phone but keeping an ear out for any sign that you needed him.

he started keeping a small stash of things in the bathroom just for you—a bottle of water, a pack of crackers, even a tiny fan he’d mounted to the wall to keep the room from getting too hot. “just in case,” he’d say again, shrugging like it was no big deal, but you could see the way he checked you over every time, his eyes scanning you for any signs of trouble.

on the nights when you’d get that familiar wave of lightheadedness, the kind that made your knees wobble and your vision blur, he’d wrap an arm around you without a word, guiding you to sit down on the cool tiles until it passed. “deep breaths, baby,” he’d murmur, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back.

it didn’t matter how many times it happened—he never got annoyed, never made you feel like a burden. if anything, it seemed like he’d made it his personal mission to keep you safe, to be your anchor when the world spun too fast.

sometimes, he’d just step into the shower with you, his hands gentle as he helped you wash your hair or rubbed your shoulders when you were too tired to do it yourself. “just lean on me, okay?” he’d say, his voice soft, water dripping off his face as he pressed a kiss to your temple.

on the tougher days, he’d insist on being in there from start to finish, his eyes never leaving you. he’d prop you up against his chest, his arms around your waist, holding you steady as the warm water cascaded over both of you. “it’s okay, i’ve got you,” he’d murmur, his voice steady and grounding.

when you’d protest that he didn’t need to, he’d just shake his head. “you think i’m gonna risk it? no way,” he’d say, his lips quirking into a small smile. “plus, it’s kind of nice. makes me feel useful.”

“not gonna let you hit the floor again,” he’d say with a small, determined smile, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. and you believed him.

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[hellfire--cult]

Actor!Steve Harrington x BFF!Fem!Reader

wc: 15k

Summary: Your best friend asks for a huge favor when an extra calls out a day before filming a scene. A kiss scene. You have never been in front of a camera, unlike him, so you ask if you could practice... and also test the waters because you never kissed your best friend. The man you've been in love with for the past years.

+18, friends to lovers, idiots in love, steve is not that famous yet, lots of friendly banter, reader is a bit self conscious, kissing, smut, p in v (protected), 69, handjob, fingering, a little bit of dirty talking

a/n: this wip has been in my docs for months. I recently got back to it and finished it in just days. It was supposed to just be the smut, but as always, your girl can't help herself. Thank you @andvys and @ghost-proofbaby for proofreading, god knows that if i do that myself i would just delete it all.

Please reblog. Be kind.

NOT JUST AN EXTRA

“Absolutely fucking NOT!” 

Steve knew you would react like that, it wasn’t a small favor, he also knew that. Your eyes were wide, bewildered, looking at him as if he had grown a second head or a palm tree at the top of it with a monkey dangling from a leaf. He could only sigh as he shook his head at you.

“Come on, you’re gonna get paid, and we’re tight on time to do an audition for this. It’s just a few seconds, ten tops!” You gritted your teeth together as you crossed your arms over your chest. He winced, knowing you were about to increase the tone of your voice. He knows you too well, you aren’t his best friend for nothing.

“Ten seconds! Ten seconds of me being on the big screen for the first time!” You yelled and he closed his eyes and nodded.

“I know, I know–” He opened his eyes to look into yours, pleading, begging. “I– It’s just that small scene. Small, tiny, and we can do it fast.”

He could see how your eyes showed how you wanted to blow him off, but also the tenderness of caring for your best friend. Eyes he always appreciated. Eyes he adored. Eyes he loved with all of his heart. You rubbed your forehead in thought as you looked down at the floor.

“I– Are you sure you can’t get someone else?” You asked and he sighed, shaking his head. Steve’s hope started rising as you deliberated until you finally looked up at him and nodded. “Okay… Okay… Fine.”

He smiled and wrapped his arms around your frame, squishing you and lifting you up to twirl you around. You squealed, a giggle escaping your lips, a shenanigan he never stopped doing everytime you did something he was happy about. Since middle school, he twirls you around whenever he is proud, delighted, or you help him with stuff.

You’re put back on your feet, shaking your head as you take a step away from him, a smile on your face, but you notice a nervous chuckle come out of his lips. You frowned because wasn’t he happy? He cleared his throat and nodded once more, looking down at you.

“Alright– I will talk to James to tell him you’ll do it–” And something was not right. He was nervous, you noticed it, so you squinted at him.

“Steve… What’s the scene about?” 

He let a choked laughter out, a fake one, rubbing the back of his head. You felt a certain anger growing inside of you as you looked at how he was reacting. You tilted your head, waiting for him to stop being stupid for a second.

“Um… Well, you see… It’s just– It’s just this small scene–” You glared at your best friend as he kept rambling. You know that when Steve is nervous he rambles… or when he is about to ask for a big, big, HUGE, favor… One you might not like.

“And what is my part in this scene?” You pressed on as he cleared his throat and looked down as he mumbled something under his breath that you couldn’t hear, making you frown. “What did you say?”

“It’s… and well…” You still couldn’t hear him, your irritation only growing each second as you started tapping your foot on the floor. 

“Speak clearly Steve, stop mumbling, or I swear to god–”

“We have to kiss while you pretend to ride me.” 

And your mouth dropped at that as Steve saw how your confused frown turned into one of shock and your whole body froze on the spot. He gulped as he waited for your response, but you were still looking at him as if he had just told you the most shocking news there is to exist. 

He took a deep breath as he looked away for a second, still waiting. He knows he is asking too much. He knows it, he is not stupid, and he knows this was selfish. He is very much aware of how selfish he is, asking you to play this part but–

Steve just wants to kiss you at least once in his life.

While you’re still in front of him, mouth agape, you fail to notice just like you did all these years, how much the man you call your best friend loves you. You have failed to notice. How he looks at you, how he worships you, how he is willing to kill and die for you. How jealous he is of anyone that looks your way, how jealous he was of all the lovers you took, your ex.

And he knows you have failed to see his feelings, and he assumes that you have been unable to see them because you have never seen him in the same light he sees you. So, for once in his life he will take something he always wanted from you. A kiss. A simple kiss. Of course he wanted to do so many other things with you, but a kiss already means the world for Steve.

“I have to do what?” You asked as you stared at him and he took a sharp intake of breath and nodded, wincing as he talked.

“Yeah… That’s why I’m asking you because– It’s kind of an intimate scene, and I don’t really want to kiss a stranger they had to hire at the last minute…” He lied. He did many times before, but he needed the excuse, he just hopes you don’t see through the lie.

You could only stare at him for a few times as you felt your heart wanting to burst out of your chest. You would kiss your best friend. Intimately. Even if fake, you would still kiss him. After all these years of friendship, of shared moments… and after all these years of harboring this burning love and desire you feel for him.

Feelings you had buried, feelings you were managing to leave behind the closer he got to stardom. Knowing you would see him less, that he would start dating another celebrity sooner or later, that he would forget about you and that would give you the freedom to move on, despite feeling completely destroyed.

But you would have been free.

And now, he is giving you this chance. An opportunity you don’t want to miss, but it might just break you. Ruin you for anything and anyone that might come after him. A ten-second kiss, maybe twenty seconds if a second take is required. Perhaps you could fail the scene many times… get him for a whole full minute… 

It’s risky. Your heart is at stake, your feelings are going to be crushed after it, knowing you will never taste his lips again, or have him as close as you did. You shouldn’t. You really fucking shouldn’t but you won’t ever have this chance again.

“Fine.” Your voice was small yet his eyes lit up the moment you agreed. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest, almost choking him up but he kept a poker face as best as he could. He forced a smile on his lips as he appeared relieved at your response, but that’s why Steve became an actor.

It’s a smile of happiness yet filled with sadness because Steve Harrington promised himself something if you agreed on this little favor of his—something that would rip a part of him, who he is and has been his whole life.

He would let go of you.

It was time to let this love for you die.

—-----------------------------------------------

You could feel yourself sweating as you scanned the document in your hand. The script. It was just one stupid action line, no words in between, just the description of what was happening in the scene.

Kristoff passionately kisses a random girl at a motel, and she is rubbing herself on him while they sit on the bed. He gets a call and the kiss gets interrupted. He excuses himself and leaves promptly.

“Seriously… random girl. That’s my name.” You scoffed as you threw the script on the bed while Steve sat cross-legged, at the feet of the bed. He looked at you over his glasses and he put down his own papers as he sighed.

“Well, it is just a random scene to reveal my character’s personality at the beginning of the movie.” He softly replies to you and you sigh, leaning against the headboard behind your head. You were at his loft in New York City—one that gladly remains hidden from the fans, and paparazzi.

“So your character is a playboy.” You smile at him and he huffs, shaking his head at you with a smile on his face.

“Yes, but then it is revealed–”

“Yeah, the trauma, the unloved boy, blah blah blah–” Your voice became muffled with an ‘oof’ as your face was squashed by a pillow being thrown at your face. You groaned as you pulled it off only to see Steve chuckling at you, biting his bottom lip that only made you gulp the nerves you didn’t know you were holding in your throat.

“Shut up. I mean… Mouse, this could be it. The one movie that will… skyrocket me to higher opportunities.” His smile faded slightly as your face softened… and your heart slowly broke. You knew this movie was going to be good, and you knew this was going to be the chance for his career to take off. 

Your time with him now is limited. Once this movie is out, you know the internet will go crazy over him. Fans will increase, paparazzis will be more insufferable, more interviews, more articles, more shows– And where do you fit in all that?

“I know… And it will be a hit, I just know it.” Your eyes went back to the script and you got hold of it again, pretending to scan over the words just so you wouldn’t look at him, just so you wouldn’t feel like you’re already losing him. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he licked his lips and tilted his head.

“How do you know?” He asked and you didn’t look up at him as you shrugged, letting your heart speak your truth. He was still your best friend, and the love you feel for him is still unconditional, and the words you say are honest.

“Because it’s you Steve. You are really good at what you do, and I know you will nail this role and all the ones that will be presented to you.” If only you would have raised your head, you would have noticed how his eyes were looking at you. 

Devoted. Whipped. Destroyed.

He gulped once more as he scanned you, and then he looked at the clock. It was getting late, but the scene was the next day and he doesn’t know if he should ask but–

“Hey, mouse–” But you interrupted him as realization struck you. Nerves ran all over your body, creating goosebumps, and then– fear.

“Steve… How do you kiss in movies?” He blinked a few times, and he shook his head a bit to center again as he grew confused at your question.

“Huh?” You felt your whole body beating, not only your heart. You never did this, not even on a stage. You never faked kissing before, you never acted it out. 

“You heard me! I mean, is it just lips? Pecks? Tongue? Do you fake the tongue? Do you not? Do you move a lot, or just a little? How do you know if you are overdoing it? Or what if you are not doing it naturally?” His eyes were wide as he listened to your outburst. You looked nervous, flushed, jittery… cute.

“Mouse, you need to calm down–”

“Calm–? Calm down!? You have kissed thousands of times on screen, this is my first time Steve!” His heart softened as he heard you, noticing your distress and how you scanned the line on the script over and over. His heart started picking up a pace as he felt the anticipation for what he was going to propose. 

“Well… the basic theory is to know what the scene is about… This one in particular, since it’s just the foreplay for sex, it can be just– lips moving rapidly, and maybe some tongue… It just comes naturally.” Your mouth fell agape as you stared at your best friend. He was being too casual about it, but of course he would be, this is his job and for you, it’s a world-shattering event.

“You say it as if it were the simplest of things Steve. I– Fuck, I shouldn’t have agreed, I’m gonna be so fucking awkward–” You put the script down, running your hands through your hair and Steve bit his bottom lip, not knowing if what he will say next would give him away, or if you are going to run off.

“We… I mean…” He stuttered, once again. Mumbling because of nervousness. You sighed and looked at him as he looked at his hands, playing with the ring that he still holds onto on his left index finger. One you bought for him when he graduated high school, while he gifted the matching one that resides on your right index finger.

“What?” You asked and he cleared his throat, looking up at you over his glasses, a nervous cough coming out of his lips as he tried to sound professional and not desperate.

“We can always practice.” Your eyes were looking at him as if he was the craziest man alive, but it was just because you were in shock. This means you would have two opportunities to kiss him. Today, and tomorrow when in front of the cameras. But– You can’t accept too quickly, even if you are excited, and giddy, and want to answer yes immediately–

“Practice? Like– Kissing?” He took a deep breath and nodded, hoping you would accept, hoping you would let him kiss you twice in his life, and he knew that he might be a little pathetic in his way of getting a kiss from you, but he didn’t want to lose you completely by confessing to you. He wanted to keep you in his life, even if you were his demise.

“Yeah. I can tell you when it is overdoing it and when it’s not.” He felt his mouth go dry as you looked away towards the sunset that was shining through his window. He inspected your profile, your beautiful profile. Your lips puckering out in thought, the expanse of your neck, your collarbone that peeked out of the V-collar of your T-Shirt. 

His heart was punching his chest open as his eyes kept moving, not being able to contain himself. Not being able to contain his thoughts from running wild at the thought of touching your lips for the first time. What it could be, what it could lead to… and it was probably just you scrunching your nose at the thought of kissing him.

“You… Don’t mind kissing me?” You still weren’t looking at him, not daring to look at his eyes, getting ready for when he tells you that it’s just work and that it means nothing. Not the way it does to you.

“Mouse, you are fucking beautiful. Of course I don’t mind.” And you didn’t expect that from him at all, and in all honesty, he didn’t even process the words coming out of his mouth just now, but they weren’t any less true. Your eyes slowly found his as your head turned to face him. The orange hues of the sunset hit his irises just right, making his brown eyes turn hazel, clear, and honey-like.

His freckles are basically sparkling at you right now, contrasting with the light, and his short stubble shining as well. He looks so beautiful. Just like that summer all those years ago, the summer you realized you were in love with him. He had only offered you some ice cream, and the sun was just like the one shining through the window right now. He was smiling, younger, and boyish.

And now, he is a man. Your best friend is a man.

“I’m happy to know you won’t vomit on my face the moment you kiss me then.” You giggled, trying to loosen the tension, to loosen your nerves a little bit as you tried to act as his best friend, the way you’ve always been. Maybe you should become an actress as well. He scoffed at you with a shake of his head and then he looked down at his hands, those big hands that grew from one day to another in your freshman year.

“And what about you? You gonna vomit on my face?” His voice was lower than before, and you licked your lips as you felt your body flushing. You suddenly felt smaller, and girlier, and you didn’t know why. 

“N-No. I’ll try to not repeat what happened when we were twelve.” He laughed at your words and you couldn’t help but smile at the memory, even if it was disgusting. He was spinning you around after you beat him in a hot dog-eating competition. He was happy you won, but he didn’t believe you when you told him you were feeling sick.

“That was on me. I deserved that.” His eyes found yours again and his smile faded slightly as he scanned your face. “So? Should we–”

“A peck.” You quickly responded and you wanted to curse at yourself. He tilted his head, confused and you cleared your throat, lifting yourself from the headboard to sit straighter, copying him as you crossed your legs underneath your body. “We um… should start with a peck. I mean… it’s like… uncharted territory. Kissing your best friend and all…” 

He felt his body sweat as he thought of just grazing your lips and he knew you were being cautious. If it’s too weird for you, you’re going to back out, that’s why you are asking for this. Trial and error. He always wanted to kiss you, even imagined you in the most obscene of positions, but– you haven’t with him. You were still looking at your best friend, the twelve-year-old boy who threw a slug over your head.

“Yeah. Let’s try that.” He moved the script away as he scooted closer to you. You straightened up the moment his knees hit yours, both of you still cross legged, just like you two always sat when telling eachother stuff, or gossip. Your heart felt like it was about to burst, but you had to act as if this meant nothing. As if this didn’t phase every single cell of your body.

You licked your lips in anticipation as you rested your palms on top of your knees. His hands slowly pressed on top of yours as he looked at you over his glasses. Your eyes gazed at his lips momentarily and his eyes did the same with yours. Years of oblivious pining over one another, and you two didn’t know it, didn’t notice it, because you’re two idiots. 

Belittling yourselves, thinking you two aren’t right for eachother, not good enough, or not even eachother’s types. You didn’t see what everyone else saw. How everyone bet behind your backs to see when you two would get together. When Steve would succumb and drop to one knee, or when you would simply profess your love for him. 

Yes, two oblivious idiots.

He leaned in, squeezing your hands for you to do the exact same, as if reassuring you it was alright. You followed his pace, leaning forward to meet him in the middle. You closed your eyes but he didn’t, wanting to burn the image to memory. He wanted to remember your eyelashes, the moment they fluttered shut, your breath hitting his lips, and then finally, his lips clashing with yours.

He closed his eyes then, so he could focus on the kiss. You knew your heart stopped in this second, in this small yet eternal second. Or two. Maybe three. You felt as if you were being lifted off the ground, clouds gathering around you, and you felt lightweight. A cold sweat invaded his body, or was it warm? He didn’t know, he just felt as if water washed all over him.

He tried to calm down, knowing his blush would show if he didn’t. He pulled away from the kiss and opened his eyes again. You blinked a few times, zoned out, and you straightened up as you realized you were acting nervous, or, rather the opposite. You were happy, or floaty. You gulped as you cleared your throat, trying to sound normal, or as normal as one could.

“That… wasn’t as weird as I thought it might be.” And he was relieved to hear that, yet also disappointed by the fact you thought it would be weird at all. He didn’t know it was just you playing the part. You wanted to lick your lips to see if you could taste him even further, but you knew that was to come now. 

“Yeah, it wasn’t.” His voice was lower than before, and there was a certain shift you felt in the air. Something that unconsciously was making your pulse go faster. He said it with… a certain tone that you couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was. He cleared his throat and tilted his head at you. “Ready to experience my amazing, expert, professional lips?”

You giggled, yes, out of nervousness, and trying to mask the fear, or the excitement. You shook your head as you looked at him.

“Oh please, we both know I kiss better.” You smirk proudly at him and he rolled his eyes at you.

“Eddie’s not the best to judge it.” You scoffed at that, squinting your eyes at him. You remember that night, Steve, you, Eddie, Robin, and Argyle drank in Robin’s room, and Eddie wanted to know who was the best kisser out of all of you. Robin didn’t indulge, but out of the three Eddie got to kiss, he said you were the best kisser. He said you were ‘tender’.

“You can’t keep saying that it’s because he likes women better than men, he is going out with Billy now, so my point still stands.” You sat there proudly, not noticing his fingers were slowly intertwining with yours over your knees. He huffed and then laughed, his head tilting to the side as his voice became low in a whisper, and he slowly leaned in.

“I’ll be the judge of that now Mouse.” It didn’t sound like your best friend talking just now. It sounded like a man talking to a girl he really wanted to kiss. Maybe your imagination is running a little too wild. You need to tell your hope to squash down just a tiny bit, or you will get hurt.

And now came the nerves. What if you overdid it now? What if you did it too roughly or too desperate? You have to calm down and let him lead. You will just follow, that’s all you have to do. You swallowed harshly, your eyes closing as his breath hit your lips, your hands tightening around his.

He could smell your perfume, and he was so nervous. He is nervous about being obvious, because, how does he stop the kiss from becoming real? How does he do it? He doesn’t know. He doesn’t. But he won’t stop even if a gun is pointed at his head right now.

His lips came in contact with yours once again, softly. You held in your breath as he exhaled when you kissed him back, your head pressing forward as well. His lips then smacked against yours as they moved once. You followed his movements, slow, and enticing, and you felt your body heat up instantly as your heart threatened to kill you at any second.

You were touching the stars and Steve was on the moon. He couldn’t believe he was kissing you, even if it was ‘fake’, he couldn’t believe it. You weren’t pulling away in disgust, and that for him is already a win. His lips started moving with more determination, kissing your bottom lip as you kissed his top lip.

The smacking of lips bounced on every wall in the room, and Steve felt the temperature rise inside of him. He could feel your fingers intertwining with his over your knees and all he wanted to do was to slide his hands upwards, slide them beneath the hem of your shorts, touch your skin, grip you, and mark you with his fingernails. 

With every tilt of head you both did in between the kiss, your mind kept sending images of what you wanted to do to him. How you wanted to push him onto the bed and kiss his neck, his freckles, his biceps, the scar on his belly from the time he protected you against a cat that for some reason wanted to kill you. Then you wanted to take him into your mouth, show him how much you grew up. How much of a woman you are. How a woman like yourself could please a man like him.

But your imagination is cut off when you feel him pull away and you open your eyes to see him looking at you already. His pupils were dilated, and he hoped you wouldn’t see them because of his glasses, which were a bit foggy because your nose bumped into them everytime you turned your head to kiss him. 

The tension was palpable around you two, and you wanted more, you needed more. Your breath was a bit quick, and you had to calm down before you gave yourself away. You straightened up once again, clearing your throat. His lips were plumped because of the kiss, and you wanted to kiss them again, but you just raised your eyebrows in question.

“Well?” You asked and Steve was kicked out of his daydreaming as your voice rushed through his ears. He chuckled nervously and nodded, biting his bottom lip in order to keep tasting you.

“Can’t believe Munson was right. You do kiss well.” You were about to give a triumphant ‘Ha’ but he stopped you by raising a hand towards you to shut you up with a smirk to his lips. “But I never kissed myself, so I don’t know if you are a better kisser than me.” 

Your mouth fell open at that, but he was right. You huffed afterwards, and you looked down, seeing your fingers intertwined with his over your knees. You felt your blood rushing through your ears and wanted to keep going. Would you sound desperate if you proposed to keep practicing? Would it give you away?

You pulled your hands away from him and he felt his heart plummet into his stomach. Maybe he overdid it himself? Maybe you did get weirded out? Maybe it wasn’t something you enjoyed at all? Your hands grabbed the script again and he tilted his head, opening his mouth to ask what you were doing but you interrupted him first.

“Um… can we practice with the actual scene?” Oh, your words just sent him to heaven. You would sit on top of his lap. You would be kissing him and rubbing yourself against him– Oh fuck, you would rub yourself against him… or maybe you didn’t? But shit, he was already half hard from the stupid pecks on the lips and the innocent kissing, how is he going to be able to handle this?

And you didn’t have a hard-on to show it off, but you weren’t any less horny than he was. You knew that if you put the least bit of friction on the seam of your shorts and onto your clit, your wetness would sip through. He might notice, but maybe you just pretend to rub yourself? Maybe you just don’t press down?

He felt his veins pulsing, specifically the ones that coursed through his wrists. His fingertips were burning with the idea of being able to hold you the way he’d always wanted to do. His eyes traveled over your body until you looked up at him when you received no answer to your question. He gathered himself and nodded with a shrug.

“Sure…” He gulped as he threw the script to the floor and moved on the bed, his shirt riding up as he crawled and sat next to you. He pressed his back against the headboard and straightened his legs to lay flat on the bed. He patted his lap with an innocent smile on his lips which only made your heart stop. “Hop on.”

You pretended to be annoyed by him, rolling your eyes, pretending you weren’t about to pass out right then and there. You uncrossed your legs and moved to throw one knee over his lap, landing next to his hip. Your eyes connected with his as you hovered over him, not wanting to press down.

“Um… should I…–” Your words were small, not really knowing what to do with your posture. His hands hesitantly grabbed your hips and guided you to sit on his thighs, avoiding his crotch. He hissed inwardly when you brushed over it for a split second, cursing at himself for how sensitive he was right now.

“There. Tomorrow they will ask us to do crotch to crotch though. The camera angle will move from the hips, towards our profiles.” You could feel your face catch on fire at the mere thought of rubbing yourself against Steve. He smiled reassuringly at you, his hands moving to your waist. “It’ll be fine. I’m a professional, you know that.”

“That does nothing to calm my nerves.” You rolled your eyes and he squeezed you slightly as you adjusted yourself on his thighs. You cursed inwardly when the seam of your shorts rubbed on you by accident, right on your clit. “What if you pop a boner for me, huh?” 

“And what if you get dripping wet for me Mouse? I can’t see it but it can happen.” His words were out of his mouth before he could stop them and he felt himself combust. He felt as if he were on literal fire. Your eyes locked with his over his glasses and you didn’t know how to react to it. He was right, but– is this something normal best friends say to eachother? You broke the tension by clearing your throat.

“You are too sure of yourself.” You saw how his tongue darted out to lick his lips for a second and you took a deep breath in as he pointed to the floor next to the bed.

“It will move from here–” and he moved his hand, passing over the end of the bed, over your thighs, both of your hips and then up towards your profiles, his fingers wiggling on the side of your face, “– to here.” 

“Got it… So…”

“Follow my lead, mouse.” You gulped the lump you were holding back as the butterflies in your stomach exploded, burst into flames, or they set an atomic bomb in there as he leaned close. His hands squeezed your hips as yours grabbed his shoulders. His nerves were a definite match with yours, completely out of control, berserk, but he was the professional here, he could pretend, even if it would leave a bad aftertaste.

His lips found yours again, making your breath hitch slightly, but you kissed back just like you have before. The seam on your shorts was pressing against you and now you really wondered if your wetness would sip through. What if it did and he felt it? You were far from his pelvic area, and you didn’t want to be obvious in looking down at it to check if he was as afflicted as you were.

Your lips moved together, your heart jumping in your chest while he was already bungee jumping off the empire state building. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, making him hum in the kiss and slowly pull away, making you open your eyes to look at what you had done wrong. He was smiling softly at you, his eyes darting to his right shoulder for a second.

“If you grab at me like that, your nervousness will show. Let your hands roam. Wrap your arms, or your hands can go through my hair.” He was being straightforward, but he was desperate for you to relax. He was desperate to feel as if this were real, to feel you close once and for all, to feel you against him and for your nails to rake into his hair. 

You slowly nodded, trying not to feel your entire body burning at the prospect of messing your best friend’s hair with your fingers. You took a deep breath in as you stretched your fingers over his shoulders and gave him a nod. His eyes darted to your lips again before leaning back in, kissing you once more.

You let your hands rub his shoulders, and you thought that, if this had to be as natural as possible, then you should just kiss him the way you always wanted to. If it is too much, you can just play it out that this is how you normally kiss. Giving yourself one last push of encouragement, you moved your lips against him, your hands moving to the back of his neck and then up into his hair. You have played with Steve’s hair many times before, but never in this manner. You want to pull on it, you want to rub yourself on him, but you have to keep yourself in check before you give your true intentions away too easily.

Steve on the other hand, he was being way too cautious and you were driving him fucking insane. He doesn’t know how he is capable of holding himself back but he is trying, and finding himself slowly failing at each scratch you do on his head. It was more than he bargained for, and now he is paying the consequences of it. He could smell your perfume, taste the cherry flavored chapstick you were wearing, the feel of your bare thighs under his hands as he rubbed on them, slowly, pretending this is how he is going to move for the shot of the next day.

Was it okay for him to have some hope by the way you were kissing him? Was it okay for him to just fuck this game and kiss you for real? Was it okay for him to think you felt affected as he was? For a while? All this time?

So maybe he just needs to take this chance. If you pull away, he can pretend he is used to doing his kisses a bit harsher, or something, he can do it, but he needs you. He fucking needs to feel your tongue on his. He turned his head and poked your bottom lip with the tip of his tongue. Your body flinched but he felt your body roll slightly against him, sending him into a mess of nerves and excitement when you opened your mouth for him. 

And when you felt his tongue going into your mouth to dance with yours, you knew you were gone. You are going to do what you always wanted to do, and for some reason, and it might be the temperature of the room or maybe his own body heat, but you think Steve might be feeling the same way you are doing right now. You could feel it in the way you have his hand running up towards your hips, the tips of his fingers going under the hem of your shirt, just a little bit.

So, you take the leap as well. 

You wiggled a little closer to his crotch, pretending to move to sit more comfortably, and that’s when you felt him. He groaned into the kiss the moment you rubbed yourself, slightly, over him. You weren’t fully seated on him, but you knew he was hard and was that a sign that this was okay? That this was something you both wanted? 

His tongue moved against yours, both of your heads turning as you kept kissing, rubbing, touching, not even noticing that minutes had passed, when the scene was only going to be ten seconds. Then, he suddenly pulled away, breathless, and you feared for the most until he spoke in a hoarse voice.

“Closer.” And you only nodded, his hands helping you move to fully sit on him, your chest against his, and you couldn’t even gasp that his lips were on yours again the moment his bulge came in full contact between your legs. 

He was letting himself be guided by his lust and his love for you. He couldn’t let you go, not when you are giving him all the green lights there are. You could have questioned him just now, told him no, that it was too much, but you just nodded and followed with nothing to say. He hoped he wasn’t misunderstanding anything, but fuck, you were rubbing against him. You could fully feel his hard on and instead of shying away, or jumping up in disgust, you were rubbing yourself even more against him.

His hands travelled upwards, going underneath the hem of your shirt, his fingers touching your bare waist, sending shivers down your spine, the butterflies multiplying in your belly as the heat he radiates from his fingertips travels into your body. You could smell his cologne, the distinctive scent he’s been carrying for years now, one you detect the minute he crosses a door and into a room. 

Your breaths are heavy against eachother as you keep kissing, desperately, eating one another like you’ve always wanted to do to one another. His glasses hit you every once in a while at each turn of head, and the more you sway your hips against him, the more you forget the fact that this was supposed to be practice. He wasn’t supposed to be into it the way he is, and maybe… 

You slowly pull away from him, noses still touching, lips still brushing, breaths mingling with one another’s and you manage a small whisper towards him.

“Are we still practicing, Steve?” And that made him open his eyes to find yours. Their eyes, clouded with lust, desire, love, tenderness, and pent-up feelings, met. Feelings that can be talked and discussed later on. He pulled his head back and with a swift movement, you were now facing the ceiling as he got on top of you, settling between your legs. He ripped the glasses off his face and threw them god knows where as he planted his hands on each side of your body and leaned down, his eyes dark and determined, something you never thought would be directed your way.

“Like hell we are.” And you burst in happiness as his lips crashed with yours again. He could be just thinking of where to stick his dick in right now, but you’ll take it. This is being done rationally, sober, with complete consciousness. Your tongues met again, your hips clashed, and he began rutting into you, his bulge hitting your clit perfectly now at every thrust.

You let yourself moan into his mouth as your hands ran through his hair, your legs spreading even more for him to rut harder and he touched heaven the moment he heard your sweet voice react to him like that. You were accepting him, encouraging him and he couldn’t be more grateful to whatever god has heard him. He groaned into your mouth as a particular thrust sent a wave of heat all over his body, feeling himself twitch in his pants, and he knew his boxers were already stained with precum. 

He wasn’t going to last, and if he keeps rutting himself into you, he is going to blow his load in three minutes or less. He has been waiting for this moment for far too long, just as much as you have. Your belly was already burning with his dry humping, and it was becoming harder to hold your noises back.

He moved to rest on his elbows so he could move his right hand downwards, underneath the hem of your shirt. You sucked in a sharp breath when you felt his fingertips grace your belly, and then went upwards, touching the soft cotton of your plain bra. You weren’t expecting anything today, and now you were wondering if he would think you are too common for him. Not extravagant enough. Yet all doubts were thrown out the window when he pulled away, his lips pressing to the side of your mouth, then your cheek, then your jaw, and his voice mumbled into the skin of your neck before he started kissing it.

“You’re so beautiful, fuck– Tell me you want this Mouse, that you wanted this as much as I have…” Your breathing was jagged as he started sucking, licking, kissing your neck. You gasped when he hit your pulse point and pressed his tongue on it, making you press your hips upwards and into him. He just confessed to you he wanted you. He has wanted you for a while from what you could decipher, but questions could come later. 

“Yes– God, Stevie, yes–” No turning back now. The friendship was ruined, passed onto a better life. He hummed in delight into your skin, finally daring to move his hand to cup your breast. He couldn’t believe how dumb and blind he was. You wanted him. How did he not see it? Maybe he wasn’t the only actor between the two of you.

Your back arched against him as you felt him grope your breast, rub on it with his big hands. Hands you couldn’t stop staring at everytime he took notes down on his scripts or on his agenda. You had mentioned to him before his hands were ridiculously large, which only made him joke to you about how he never got any complaints about them. You have touched yourself to thoughts of those hands on you and now you get to live it. 

He sucked onto your skin, ready to mark you up finally, make you his. You were not pushing him away from it, or denying him from doing so, so that was a great sign for him. Your mouth was open as one hand was still tangled in his hair, the other dragging your nails on his back. You were letting out small sounds, little huffs, but then you felt his fingers go underneath the elastic of your bra, finally cupping your breast completely bare. He moaned into your skin when he felt your nipple perk up against his palm, and he immediately got it in between his fingers and pinched.

You let out your first loud moan of the night and that made him thrust into you quite desperately. He was going to cum in his pants. He can’t have that. He pulled away from your neck, sitting up and ripping his hand away from you, making you pout slightly. He smirked at how fucked you looked already, and all thanks to him. He crossed his arms in front of him and grabbed the hem of his shirt, pulling it off in one movement, his hair now more disheveled than what your fingers had done to it. 

You were flushed all over as you looked at him, his arms, his chest, his abdomen… his fucking chest hair. That chest hair that sprouted out of nowhere from one summer to the other and it completely made your hormones go a little crazy. 

“Am I going to be the only one getting undressed here?” He asked as a joke, yet not entirely. It was one last chance for you to step out. For you to go back to what you two were minutes before. You licked your lips as you sat up, taking your shirt off in front of him and throwing it away just like he did. He was still kneeling up in between your legs, staring down at you as if you had hung the stars for him. And that you did.

“Don’t be a crybaby.” Your voice was teasing and small, showing how nervous you were. You couldn’t help it. Steve had other experiences now, and you wondered if you could really compare at all. He gulped as his eyes ran over your chest, and he has seen you in your bra before. But those times cannot compare to what this means right now, because that bra will be taken off in, what he hopes, a few seconds.

He ran a hand through his hair as your hands ran over his chest, inspecting him, experiencing him. He moved his free hand to hold your cheek and make you look up at him. Your eyes were glossed over and he couldn’t stop himself that he was already leaning to take your lips with his as his other hand went to your back and touched the clasp of your bra, which made you jump slightly. He immediately pulled away, looking at you, his nose still bumping into yours.

“You okay?” How do you explain that you jumped because of your excitement and happiness? Of how sensitive you were because all your senses were heightened up because of him. How do you not sound in love? 

“Yeah, just got surprised, that’s all…” You gave him a peck of reassurance and he hummed into your lips, his hand moving to the clasp of your bra once again and in one swift movement of fingers, it snapped open. A pang of jealousy and anger hit you for just a few seconds until he pulled away from you, his hands grabbing both straps of your bra, his eyes glued to your breasts as he sat back, taking your bra with him.

And, well, Steve is staring. His breathing ragged as you saw how he dropped the bra on the bed, his eyes going left and right, not knowing in which one to focus on. He never saw your bare breasts before and now that he does–

“They’re so fucking perfect Mouse… You’re so perfect for me, jesus christ–” You couldn’t even process his words that he was making you lay back on the bed again, his body over yours and his mouth came in contact with your collarbone as his left hand held the back of your neck and the other your waist.

You sighed in pleasure when his kisses started moving downwards towards your chest, then moving to the right. The left hand moved from the back of your neck to rest on your right breast, nipple immediately fitting between his fingers. You were about to arch your back at the feeling, only for another sensation to override it. His lips on your left nipple. 

“Steve–” You gasped as your back arched towards him, your hands flying to his head, running your fingers through his hair to pull him even more into you. He loved his name on your mouth like this… And he wanted to hear you scream it. Cry it. Breaking through your vocal cords as he made you come undone.

His lips moved on your right nipple, sucking on it as he pinched the left one. He looked upwards to see you, his hair blocking his view a bit, but he saw how your head was thrown back on the pillow, mouth open as little breaths left it. He hummed into your breast and then he got the nipple between his teeth, and softly pulled on it, inflicting a bit on pain on you to taste the waters and–

This moan was your loudest yet.

“Oh, you didn’t lie when you said you might be a masochist.” And he remembers that conversation. A drunken night where he almost kissed you. You two talked about your sex lives but never in detail, that is, until you asked him if you were a masochist because you liked being spanked and choked, to which his response was, ‘yes’. Since that night, he had very graphic dreams that had you as their protagonist. The dreams were sweet and domestic before, and then, after that… they were pure filth.

“You remember that?” You ask breathlessly, smiling a bit as you feel him nod as he sucks on your right nipple. “I was embarrassed after saying that… my drunk brain thought it would catch your attention and blurted it out…”

“It did more than catch my fucking attention.” And with that confession, he rubbed his hips against you once more, proving his point as you felt his hard bulge still intact, if not, harder than before. You moaned as he tugged on your nipple one last time before changing places, giving the same attention to the left one as his hand kept grabbing your breast there.

“Oh, does it mean you’ve been having some dirty thoughts about me, Stevie?”

“Thoughts?” He chuckled against your skin, sending shivers down your spine as he pulled away to look at you after giving a bite to the round of your breast. “Try dreams. Lots of them.”

The confessions kept pouring out, realizing this was more than just attraction. Both of you now know this goes beyond physical. Beyond wanting to try it out with your best friend. Beyond trying a new experience.

“What did I do in those dreams?” And you saw his face flush, leaving him speechless finally as you looked up at him. You bit your bottom lip as you placed your hands on his shoulders and pushed him to the side, rolling on top of him as soon as his back hit the bed. Your legs now straddled him, hips pressing against him, provoking a groan out of his lips. 

“You were like this in one of those, certainly.” Your ears couldn’t be happier to hear that. You couldn’t contain the smile that spread on your lips as you imagined Steve waking up sweaty to a fantasy he dreamt where you were the main lead. 

“Hmm…” And your eyes went down, looking at his belt. You gave yourself a mental pat on the shoulder for encouragement as you decided you wanted to engrave yourself into his memory. “What about this?”

His eyebrows met in the middle as you moved from his pelvic area to rest on his thighs. Only then his eyes widened, when your fingers unbuckled his belt, then undid the button of his jeans and pulled the zipper down. He twitched only by the grace of your fingers over the expanse of his bulge. Oh, fuck.

You were biting your bottom lip with need as your fingers hooked in the hem of his pants and boxers. You were going to do it. You were going to cross the line. A line you were terrified of since the moment you discovered you felt physically attracted to him. One thing is to be only feeling something emotional over someone, but once you start having physical attraction to them, you know a line is suddenly drawn between the two of you.

His breathing hitched in his throat as you started pulling his clothes down. He raises his hips up in order to help you, the nerves flying all over his body, a bit of self consciousness running through his veins as he looks at the ceiling, wondering if you would think it’s weird, or too much, or too little. He never received any complaints but, who knows? This was you. He had to be perfect for you. 

But he couldn’t be more wrong. The moment he came out from his boxers, his shaft slapping on his belly as it bounced out, and your mouth fell open. You– You knew Steve could be big. You’ve ogled him, multiple times. In his gym shorts, in his swimming trunks, in his underwear whenever he was getting ready in front of you, and you caught sight of it having a little hard on just very few times. Your imagination gave it no justice.

“What the hell Steve…”

“What– What’s wrong?” His eyes found your face which was locked on his cock, and worry filled his brain as he thought you were looking at him in disgust or something. But, actually, your mouth was salivating. You were put in automatic pilot as you shuffled downwards, your thighs now straddling his shins. 

Your hands rubbed on his inner thighs, making him choke on his breath, and you saw how his shaft twitched at your touch. You clenched around nothing as you anticipated how he would sound with your lips wrapped around him. Fantasies of him moaning your name as you showed him just how much you wanted him, now, about to become a reality. 

Your upper body bent down, his eyes widening when he saw you let a blob of spit fall from your lips and onto the tip of his cock. He saw how it dribbled down his shaft and before he could stop you, your hand wrapped around him. He sighed instantly, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he gripped the sheets beneath him. Fuck– Fuck, how can he stop you now? 

“You’re so big…” Your voice was sultry, low, filled with pure lust and he noticed it. You were talking to his dick, not him. All his worry about how it looked was thrown out the window, but when you started moving your hand up and down on him, slowly, another worry filled him, and that was that he was going to cum in just a few strokes if he didn't concentrate.

“Baby–” He called out your name, but then he felt your thumb press onto the tip and then pass it on his frenulum which sent a jolt of electricity all over his body. “– Oh god.”

You were relishing in his sounds. You looked up to see his head thrown back, the veins and freckles on his neck being the stars of the show for you. He looked so good right now and you were flushing all over just by giving him pleasure. You looked back down, and your body went downwards just a little bit more, and you lolled your tongue out. A growl was torn out of him as you licked his tip, slotting it right into his slit before kissing it.

You were sucking him off. You were going to suck him off and oh my god, he is going to die. Or he is already dead and gone to heaven. He sighed in delight as he felt your mouth engulf the head of his cock. Your pretty cherry-flavored lips that will now have his taste, smearing your spit all over him. You hummed in delight as you went further and he had to grip onto the sheets as he closed his eyes, taking his mind far away so he wouldn’t blow his load right now.

You could hear his grunts, how he was holding himself back as your left hand was on his hip for leverage while the right one helped you engulf the places your mouth couldn’t reach. You let your mouth salivate around him as you started bobbing your head up and down, slowly, slightly twirling your head from side to side, while your right hand jerked him up everytime your mouth went up.

“Oh– Fuck–” He drapped an arm over his eyes as his back arched a little bit off the bed at a specific tongue press along the shaft. You want more of that, you want more of Steve breaking underneath you, so you quicken your movements, just a little bit. His breathing turned heavy and you looked up to see his chest heaving, and you knew he was holding himself back from making noises.

You pulled away with a soft pop, making him take his arm away from his eyes and raise his head to be able to look at you as you kept slowly jerking him off. His cock was right next to your lips as you stared at him.

“Don’t hold your voice back Stevie…” His eyes rolled to the back of his head when you used his nickname in a situation like this. Goddamn, you had him wrapped around your finger. He shook his head as he sighed, his belly flipping at how your thumb slotted itself in the slit of the head of his shaft.

“It’s not that– It’s– I’m not going to last if you keep sucking me off, and to be honest? I want to fuck you stupid, Mouse.” Your mouth fell open at that, suddenly flushed all over at his dirty words, at the dirty talk you never thought would be directed your way. It made him smirk, and an idea popped up in his head. “– But… I do want to taste you as well.” 

You tilted your head as he slowly moved his hands to grab your hand and one touched your cheek. He nodded upwards for you to pull away from him.

“What–”

“Turn around. Shorts and panties off.” You felt your heart in your throat as you gulped, his eyes dark, never leaving your figure as you climbed off the bed in order for you to do as he commanded. As you did that, he took the opportunity to take the rest of his pants and boxers off, throwing them to the side. You bit your lip as you pulled the button in your shorts open and then pulled the zipper down. 

You would be completely naked to him right now. You two would finally cross the line, completely. He would see you in all your glory just as how you just sucked his. You had to stop overthinking this. You had to. He wants you. You want him. And you could see how he was biting his bottom lip, how he was expecting this, how desperate he was to see you naked for the very first time.

So, defeating your nerves, you slowly pushed your shorts and panties down, not wanting to show the bland cotton panties to him, but you made a show of sticking your ass out a bit as you swayed your hips to take off your clothes. His head rolled back as he let out a groan, and you saw how his dick twitched at the sight of you and you wanted to smile at the small win. 

You were naked. He was naked. You were both naked. You couldn’t help but cover your face in embarrassment with both your hands. It was still Steve. Steve who came to your house to play in the tree house in your garden. Steve who climbed into your room whenever his mom and dad fought and he wanted to get away. Steve who helped you get your first part time job with him at Scoops where you two met Robin. 

And it was the man you have loved for the past years. 

“Hey– We don’t have to–” He was looking at you worriedly, feeling as if you had realized what was about to happen but you cut him off by jumping towards him, getting on top of him and kissing him on the lips to steal his breath away.

“I’m just nervous…” You confessed and he smiled at you, caressing your cheek as he nodded, completely agreeing with you.

“Me too… and if it’s too much–” And you shook your head at him, biting your bottom lip as you kneeled up, towering all over him. His heart picked up a pace once again as he saw how you turned around, your ass in full view for him and he couldn’t help but sigh dreamily. “God… I want a picture…” 

“Steve!” You giggled as you looked down at his length, still hard and waiting, despite the sudden interruption the two of you just had. You took a sharp breath in so you could gather up the courage and you started moving backwards, Steve’s abdomen starting to show the more you moved.

“Can you blame me?” He was already becoming pussy drunk the more your center came closer to him. His hands rubbed the back of your thighs, and then he smacked your right cheek with his hand, making you jolt and gasp, your pussy clenching around nothing. He smirked at the reaction, his hands grabbing onto your hips as you looked down at his red tip, begging for attention, twitching for it.

“S-Stevie…” He groaned, looking up at your glistening folds. Something he has dreamed of doing so many times. He couldn’t wait for you, to taste you, to finally make you scream. He needed to hear you. He needed to let you know just how good he can worship you, and how good he can make you feel. 

“Lower on me, baby, I can take it. I can take whatever you give me.” His words came from his heart because he didn’t even process them. Not that they weren’t any less true. You felt his hands gripping your hips, pressing on you so you would finally move down towards him. You took a deep breath in, and you moved your hips downwards, your hands gripping his thighs in anticipation. 

Steve could smell you and it was delightful. He is going to become addicted to you. He already was, but this would seal the entire deal. He couldn’t wait anymore, and his head left the pillow, raising up so he could dart his tongue out and finally lick in between your folds, taking a gush of your slick with him. You shivered on top of him, letting out a sigh out of your pretty lips and his eyes closed as he tasted you.

You were sweet, everything he needed and desired in one simple lick. You were the most delicious and addicting thing he has ever tasted. More than nicotine, alcohol, candy itself. You were perfect. You gasped, your nails digging into the skin of his thighs as you felt him lick at you, slurping your slickness away.

“So delicious… please…” He was begging for you to lower down, and after having a bit of what he could offer, your body lowered, his head laying back down on the pillow as your cunt slotted over his mouth. He smirked right before he darted his tongue out to rub it against your clit and then your folds. Your back was arched as you leaned down, moaning as you felt him all over, sending jolts of electricity through your entire body. 

He groaned into your folds as your hand wrapped around him again, pumping him for a few seconds before he felt your hot mouth all over the head. You could feel the vibrations of his noises when you started taking him in your mouth, and then moving up and back down. It was making you feel so good. He was making you feel so fucking good. Your Stevie.

You moaned into his cock when he slapped your thigh, the sound echoing throughout the room and he sighed as he felt your moan vibrate all over. He kept licking you away, slurping on your clit thanks to how you were arching your back against him. You were giving him great access to that sensitive button of yours and he was having the time of his life tugging at it, making you cry out a few times as he felt your body tremble on top of him.

He jerked his hips upwards when you went a little further with your mouth, taking him even more. He was surprised and he stopped lapping at your center for just a second, trying to gather up his thoughts once again. You gagged, pulling up from him slightly, but continuing to suck him off. He had to distract you. He had to make you stop because if you didn’t he was going to finish. It’s been an ongoing battle with himself all night, and he was not going to give up now.

He decided to hold your ass cheeks, spreading them and then he entered his tongue inside of you. You pulled away from him with a gasp, the side of your face falling to a rest on his left thigh as you kept pumping him right in front of you, your chest against his abdomen. 

“S–Steve–!” You couldn’t believe how thick his tongue was. Everything was overwhelming you, and you couldn’t keep your mouth on him because you just needed to moan. Your hand was still jerking him off and even if he was delighting himself with his tongue inside of you, he had to keep distracting you. 

He moved one of his hands, elbow bent between your legs and bicep against his chest in order to aim properly into your core. He pulled his mouth away from you, letting you catch your breath, only for then to be completely washed over by a gasp when you felt two of his fingers sliding over your folds, gathering up your slick in order to lube them up. Those fingers you always fantasized with. Fingers you pretended you were fucking instead of your own. 

“Pretty. My pretty girl.” His praises were coming out of his mouth nonstop. Your mouth fell open and your hand stopped moving on his cock as you felt him invade your cunt with two of his fingers. His index and middle finger, in the position of a finger gun. This will give him better access to that special spot of yours, considering the position you two were in, but fuck, his dick twitched in your frozen hand when he felt just how warm you were inside. He felt it with his tongue, but with his fingers, it felt like something else entirely.

He wanted to give you the utmost pleasure, and he knew he was succeeding by how still you stayed on top of him, cunt a few inches away from his face, seeing his fingers start to slowly pump in and out of you. He could hear the squelching, oh fuck. Maybe he is just going to cum like this. He might cum just by fingering you and listening to your sweet little moans and sighs.

You were drooling on his thigh, and you didn’t have the power to care. You were feeling good as he changed the pace and started literally fucking his fingers into you, making you choke on your own moans. You couldn’t even move your hand on him, too distracted as he kept moving his fingers in and out of you, and when you tried to move your hand, you felt him press his ring finger against your clit, rubbing it back and forth as he finger fucked you.

“Oh Stevie–” You couldn’t help the moans you were letting out, pornographic, and it was everything Steve ever wanted. For you to moan his name this way. For you to come undone under his touch. 

“You feel good, baby?” You nod against his thigh, as your eyes remain closed, your hips starting to slowly sway against his thrusts. “Oh fuck, yeah, move against me, that’s it–” 

He couldn’t help talking to you. He wasn’t very talkative when having sex, but you? You were bringing a new whole side of him. He wanted to know if you were feeling good, wanted to make you do things to feel even better, and most of all, praise you. Worship you. 

You raised yourself from his thigh, holding yourself up against it with your left hand, shaking on top of him as you felt him move his wrist slightly, hitting your G-spot even if slightly, but enough to make you cry loudly. Your right hand tightened around him, making him groan but he didn’t feel the intense burning in his belly any longer. It was there, but not as threatening. 

He smirked as he flutter around his fingers, knowing you were coming close as you kept fucking yourself on his fingers. Your belly was burning, tightening, your walls starting to clench as you decided to finally let go of his dick, slamming your hand on his right thigh, and now you were just riding his fingers. 

You looked so fucking perfect right now, and he couldn’t wait as he felt you clench even tighter around his fingers, feeling your clit throb underneath the length of his ring finger.

“I’m– Shit, Steve, please, I’m gonna cum– You’re gonna make me cum–” Your head dropped as you felt your belly starting to turn into itself and he pulled his fingers out of you, making you whine, only for them to start rubbing against your clit, making you clench around nothing at all.

“Cum on my tongue. Come on. I want it–” And you felt his tongue immediately dive into your folds, swirling inside of you as his fingers kept working magic against your sensitive clit. Your breaths were coming out in short little gasps as you felt tears building up your water lines in anticipation and lust. You felt yourself wanting to separate from him but he held you close with his other hand, not letting you move an inch away from him.

“Fuckfuckfuck– Steve!” Your nails dug into his thighs as you finally felt yourself tighten all around his tongue, your hips swaying desperately against him, not even considering you might suffocate him, but he wasn’t. He was actually in heaven as he kept drinking you, rubbing your clit in order to help you ride your orgasm out. Your cries were of his name, moans he never thought would be as high pitched as that, and you just felt hot all over.

He has to make sure he didn’t cum just now.

You twitched on top of him as you felt yourself start to untense, unclench, and your nails let go of his thighs. You felt him still swirling his tongue and sucking on your folds, eliciting a small wince as you pulled your hips up. You gulped as you breathed heavily, scooching away from his face, his hands leaving you completely. Your knees were wobbly against the mattress as you pulled your leg over his legs in order to turn around and face him.

He was breathing heavily, your slick all over his mouth and jaw, even down his neck, mixed with his saliva. You covered your mouth as you looked at the view before you. He looked utterly fucked just by eating you out. A sense of pride surged inside of you but you still bit your lip as you crawled close to him, looking down at his face.

“Steve…?” 

“Holy shit…” He was all dopey smiling up at you. “I’ve wanted to do that since… forever.” 

“Oh?” You smiled as your arms felt like complete gelatin as you kept your body up. You looked down to look at his cock, seeing how hard it still was, biting your bottom lip to look at him. “Um… you… want me to help you?”

He raised his eyebrows at you and lifted his head to look down and thankfully, gladly, he didn’t cum. He smirked, wiping his mouth away with a bit of the bedsheet as he turned to look at you once again.

“No.” Your eyes shot up in surprise and you were about to talk as he rolled on top of you, his hands on either side of your face, his pupils completely dilated as he stared down at you. “I want to fuck you, if that’s fine by you.”

You couldn’t nod quicker even if you wished. Your heart was gone already, you didn’t even know if you still had a beat or if it exploded and somehow blood was still pumping, but, sex. You were going to finally have sex with Steve. He licked his lips as he reached over for his night stand and opened his drawer to take out a condom foil. He inspected it, his eyes squinting slightly, making you frown.

“What are you doing?”

“Checking the expiration date.” Your eyes shot up in surprise at his words. Why would he need to check that?

“I… Huh?” He chuckles as he rips the foil open with his teeth, making you stupidly clench like a bitch in heat.

“I don’t exactly bring many women. This is my house and… it’s where most of you are… I didn’t want to taint it. I didn’t want anyone else but you in here for this… kind of thing.” He chuckled nervously as he rolled the condom on himself, and you were just staring at him. He has been waiting for you, all this time. He wanted you all this time. He saved this place for you, even if you two were never doing this. Even if you two were just friends like an hour ago. 

“Steve…” He looked at you and connected his eyes with yours, a feeling of warmth invading the both of you, and you two knew this was right. This was meant to happen at one point or the other, you just were too blind or stupid to realize this. Your arms wrapped around his arms as he leaned down to take your lips in his. You could taste yourself in his mouth, and you couldn’t believe that it actually was turning you on. 

Your legs spread even more for him to slot easily between them, his hard cock rubbing against you, making the both of you groan into the kiss. Your tongue danced with his as you two danced around that line that is now a spider’s thread of silk. He moaned into the kiss as he kept kissing you, but he needed to be honest with you, in order to not disappoint, so he pulled away, his breaths heavy against your lips.

“I gotta tell you, I’m not gonna last… I waited too long for this and I’ve been holding back from cumming the past thirty minutes and–” You giggled and pecked his lips with reassurance as you nodded at him.

“Don’t worry… We can go again later…” That gave him all the encouragement he needed, which he really didn’t anymore than what he already had, to grab his shaft in order to guide it to your entrance. He gave you one last look and you could feel the joy. The same joy that resides in your chest, a joy that makes you want to almost cry, but it got interrupted as his hips started pushing in. Your mouth fell open into an ‘o’ shape as you felt him stretch you out, inch by inch, and– fuck, his fingers did their best but there’s no comparison at all.

He groaned loudly as you engulfed him in your heat, slowly, and all he wanted was to slam into you, go crazy with it, but he had to be patient. He wanted it perfect. Everything has been going perfect till now, and it shouldn’t stop. It should never stop for you. Nor with you.

“Oh fuck, you feel so good, you feel so fucking good for me, Mousy.” His head fell to the crook of your neck as he inhaled your scent, your perfume, and he placed a kiss onto your skin. And his hips were not stopping, already going halfway in but you already felt full. You couldn’t believe you could keep taking him but maybe you were just made for him.

“B-Big– It’s so fucking big, Steve, what the fuck…” You couldn’t help the curse that came out of your mouth, a breathy chuckle vibrating in your neck thanks to him.

“I’m sorry– Do I–”

“No, don’t stop, I’ll kill you…” And you would, and he nodded. He took a sharp intake of breath as he tensed for a second before he dove his hips all the way in, making you gasp as his pelvis finally slammed against yours. He bottomed out and you felt him in your throat. Your nails were digging into his shoulders as you tried to adjust to him. It wasn’t painful at all, it just felt like too much, and you felt yourself pulsing around him, trying to get used to it. He pulled away from your neck, leaving a trail of kisses up on your jaw, to then move to your left cheek. 

“Are you okay?” His voice was a whisper, concerned and you wanted to cry by how attentive he was over his own pleasure. You smiled even if he wasn’t seeing it and you nodded. “Tell me when I can start moving, alright?”

And you wanted to be brave and say right now, but you actually waited for a minute, and in that minute you knew this wasn’t a one time thing. A ‘satisfy your curiosity’ kind of thing. Because Steve was peppering your whole face and neck in kisses, soft little pet names leaving his mouth for you.

‘My baby. My sweetheart. Darling. My sweet. Honey. My love.’

And the last one was the one that caught you by surprise. It seems he noticed what he had done because the moment you opened your mouth, he started to move. A moan left your lips as he started thrusting slowly in and out of you, halfway out, and then in. It was slow tempo, yet deep, but not rough.

“Stevie–” You were letting out pretty sighs as you closed your eyes in pleasure, feeling him rub against your walls with each thrust. He cradled your head in his arms, looking down at your face, his hair falling over his eyes as the sweat glistened on his forehead.

“Perfect. Can I go faster?” It was a plea, a beg, the lust for you inside of him igniting once again, and with your nod, his hips started rolling quicker, a little further than before, making you moan louder, your head tilting back on the pillow, your neck being exposed to him, to which he immediately attacked with his lips.

He started listening to the slamming of his hips against yours as he sucked on the skin of your pulse point, listening to your moans and his dick was twitching nonstop. He couldn’t believe he was having you like this, that you were letting him have you like this at all. His sweet mouse. His sweet, perfect girl.

It was paradise. He was in paradise. You were in heaven. You two felt like everything made sense for the first time in your lives. Why didn’t you do this before? Why were the two of you so scared? Those are questions you two can ask eachother later because right now all you want is to finally let Steve rail into you the way he’s always wanted to.

And to do that, he had to pull away and kneel up, his arms leaving your head so his hands could grab the back of your knees. He looked down at you for just one second as his chest heaved up and down. Your eyes were filled with tears, your gaze finding his and as you opened your mouth to call for him, his hips started snapping into yours, the bedframe hitting the wall at each thrust of his.

You moaned loudly as your right hand shot upwards, holding onto the headboard, while your left one was in a tight fist in the pillow below your head. He was moaning your name as he saw your entire body bounce against his thrusts, and he could hear how wet you were as well. He growled as he felt his belly burn instantly at it, and he wanted to last longer, to have you in more positions, to make this night unforgettable, but he had a feeling that you would not care. It would be memorable no matter what he did or happened.

“Steve, you feel so good–” Your words were like sirens singing in his ear. You were making this very difficult on him as he started rolling his hips in long and deep thrusts, making you gasp and breathe out everytime the tip of his cock hit the deepest part of you, brushing against your g-spot perfectly. Your eyes were wide, looking at the ceiling thanks to how intense he was being and how much you were loving it. 

“Yeah? Tell me how much you love it, baby, I want to hear it–” He didn’t know where all this dirty talking really came from. He was still surprised by this. 

“I love it– I love it so much– I love you– I love you!” His eyebrows met in the middle as his mouth fell open, and he was done for. He fell forward as his heart exploded inside of his chest, and he knew you were cockdrunk and it came out of your mouth unwillingly, but the feeling was there and he knew it. 

You couldn’t believe you said it. You couldn’t believe what you just did but you just let yourself go and this happened. He fell forward, his hands caging your head between them as his hair tickled your forehead, his lips brushing over yours as he kept panting into your mouth, his hips unrelenting in their pace.

“I love you… Fuck, I love you too Mouse, so fucking much, you have no idea–” He kissed you, and you felt your stomach flip, your heart set aflame. “For so long, even before the auditions–” Another kiss and his hips became desperate, not letting you reply to him at all as your breaths were being knocked out of you, thrust after thrust. “-- You’re mine, you’ve always been mine.” 

Your arms wrapped around him again, your walls clenching around his length making him moan your name as he got his hand in between the two of you. His lips smashed against yours as his fingers came in contact with your puffed up clit. Your eyes widened when you felt overwhelmed with sensations, your belly coiling at feeling him brush your g-spot at the same time he rubbed your clit.

“Please, please– Stevie, you are so good–” Your praises fell on his lips and he had to hold on for a bit longer, just a bit longer. He could feel you fluttering all around him so he needed to make you cum around him. He needed to feel you. He was begrudgingly going to admit defeat on not making you cum again, but now, now it was a need. Now it’s a must. After your confession, it’s the least he can give you for having the courage he didn’t have.

“C’mon, one more… One more and I’ll cum…” You knew the climax was going to hit you sooner or later, but the fact Steve was feeling as good as you were feeling was just, making you go a little feral.

“Okay– Okay, pleasepleaseplease–” He didn’t know you were this vocal in bed, but he hoped it was because of him, and he was. You two were vocal and just with eachother. A detail you will learn later on. You felt him rub your clit a little faster than before and you threw your head back on the pillow as you dug your nails into his hair. He moaned as he looked between your bodies, seeing himself disappear inside of you as his fingers played with your soaked button.

He felt you flutter around him and fuck, he was going to cum. He can’t hold it in anymore but he can’t change the pace of anything. He can’t. He needs to feel you around him before he gets to cum. He wants to do it at the same time you do. He wants this with you. This memory. Your eyes widen when you feel your belly burning and your back arched towards him, your walls clenching around his cock.

“I feel you. I can feel you baby, come on… Come on–” And without further encouragement, you clenched tightly around him like a vice, which knocked the breath out of him, his hips stuttering as you came all around him, his name coming out of your lips in a cry of pleasure. He looked at your contorted face for a few seconds before his hips finally stopped and twitched when he came into the condom. You were still gripping him tightly, milking every single spurt of cum he had to give. He gave a few thrusts for good measure to help you ride your orgasm out, until his fingers stopped rubbing your clit.

His head fell, forehead hitting your chest as he breathed heavily, wincing as you slowly started to unclench around him, coming down from your high. He took his hand away from your sensitive nub, and he felt your heartbeat against his head. It was so quick. He is scared your heart will burst at any second.

You on the other hand, you were so exhilarated. You could die right now and you would go happily. Death could take you and you would tell it sure why not. A smile displayed on your face as your tight grip on his head softened, slowly starting to rub circles on his scalp with your fingers, which he responded with a satisfied hum. You were breathing heavily, and he was holding most of his weight up with his hands and knees, but you still felt him all over you.

He gulped as he raised his head from your chest, smiling at you as you connected your eyes with his. He kissed your chest once, then moved up and kissed your collarbone, then your neck, which was all marked up by him, then your jaw, and finally he pecked your lips.

“Hi Mouse.” You give him a content huff, panting into each other's lips.

“Hi, Stevie…” He smiled at you, clearing his throat as he felt his cock soften slowly, moving his hips to pull out from you, eliciting a groan out of the two of you. “Fuck…”

“You can say that again…” Your hands were still in his hair and he chuckled, pecking your lips softly. His heart couldn’t pump more blood than it was right now even if it could, but he had to ask. “Did you mean that?” “What?” He gulped and continued with his question.

“That you love me…” You blinked a few times and you bit your bottom lip as the nerves returned like a bulldozer.

“I… Yeah… for a long time… Did you mean it?” Steve smiled widely, his lips coming in contact to every inch of your face, making you giggle because it tickled in some places, and your heart never felt more warm than it was now. 

“Absolutely… fuck, baby, I– How could I not want you? You’ve… been with me even when I was a loser.” You rolled your eyes at him and giggled, shaking your head.

“You were prom king!”

“And a loser! I was an ass! And had no dreams! Well, except one.” Your eyebrow raised in question, wondering what he meant.

“What was that?”

“You. You were.” You felt your eyes fill with tears as the emotions overwhelmed you, realizing the two of you could have had this for so long, and neither of you acted on it. Made something happen, and it only prompted the both of you to waste time.

“You were mine… You are mine, Stevie.” A fond smile spreads on his lips as he leans down and kisses you softly, warmly, with the intent of a forever. And he keeps kissing you. He keeps giving you sweet words, until it's time for the two of you to clean up. The moment he gets up from the bed and you wobble to take a look at him, you gasp, your hands covering your mouth.

“What!? What is it!?” His eyes were worried as he looked at you, and you pointed at his body. 

“I– Oh, did I fuck it up!?” 

“Huh?” He tilted his head at your question, only for him to look down at himself and for his eyes to widen. “Oh… fuck.”

Your fingernails had scratched him all over. His shoulders, his neck, his back, his arms, his fucking thighs. He’ll get killed, or his scene will be postponed till these go away, though, he doesn’t know if he just wouldn’t forbid you from making more. 

But the next day, when the director saw the scratches on his body and the hickies on your neck, he thought it was natural looking. That the makeup artist did an amazing job on the two of you, and the director didn’t even know you two didn’t even go to the person in charge of that. You rolled out of bed because you were running late and you rushed to the studio.

You were happy to be here with him. That it took a practice kissing lesson to be able to be with him. You were nervous, but at least not in the way you were yesterday afternoon. Not in the way of kissing him and him thinking you were disgusting, or deciding it was a bad idea to ask you for this. You were nervous because of his career, because of how this could be seen by his fans, but– You cannot give him up now. Not after all these years of missing out. 

He wasn’t going to give up on this either. The moment the movie comes out, the moment this debuts, he will go on the carpet of his premiere with you by his side. He will tell everyone that the woman he kisses for ten seconds at the beginning of the movie is his best friend and the love of his life. He will show you off. He wants everyone to know who was there with him from the very beginning and through every instance of his life, even since he was a kid.

“ACTION!”

And the scene was done in one take, the director praising you both with a–

‘Good job you two! It felt natural!’

end

a/n: i want to be fingerbanged by steve harrington

[retiredteabag]

The eyes of the beholder

my masterlist

Sukuna genuinely does not understand the concept of physical insecurity.

He has pride unrivaled by any, his assurity never wavers, and despite his unique appearance, he does not consider himself strange.

Additionally, Sukuna has a hard time putting himself in the shoes of others. He deems himself perfect. You are his favored one, so he attributes the same to you.

He sees you as the height of beauty and never entertains a different notion. It would never come to his mind.

What? You think he's wrong when he says your beauty is unparalleled? You think him a liar? You don't trust his judgment? Truly, he does not comprehend insecurity.

"Not everything is about you, Kuna." You spin around in one of the estate's halls of mirrors and run you hands over the subtle stretch marks that appear on your hips.

You had been trying on formal attire for one of the estate's events, something both you and Sukuna hated. He could likely feel any unhappy emotion that permeated your space.

You never enjoyed having to critique whether or not something was flattering on your body and Sukuna was no help as he wouldn’t allowed criticism of you.

He thought it was a waste of time because to him, it all looked appealing.

That, and you both hated events. Balls, Galas, Auctions, the whole gambit. None of it suited your interests, and The King thought them a disturbance.

You finally pulled on your original clothing, ruffling it this way and that so it would fall just right, and stepped out from behind the hall's flowing curtains.

"You wound me when you say things like that." Sukuna had his head leaned back against the wall with his eyes closed.

"I'll let everyone know just how well I can wound their King." You scoff and roll you eyes.

"Heavens, don’t they know?” He sits up. All four of his red eyes glower at you as if you've cast some kind of spell his way. "Why does this upset you so? Haven't I said that flaws hold no residence within you?"

Your lips are pulled into a frown. You know he couldn’t possibly understand, at first, it felt somewhat invalidating. His mindset was so far from yours, of course he would think it skewed.

"Don't you just think that because I have unfortunately found favor with you?" You begin to fold the options that the seamstresses had brought you as he huffs at your choice of words. "You were sculpted perfectly as you know, you and I are different."

He grumbles, having heard your complaints before. But you continue before he can take issue with it.

"My skin has these markings, and my thighs touch when I stand, my frame is far from ideal-" You turn to him now, "-and I cannot always love how things fit me as you do."

It's not that you're actually upset, just somewhat flummoxed by The King of Curses mindset.

Sukuna had sat up as you spoke, and now his posture bends toward you. He wears the silliest face you have ever possibly seen him produce and it almost makes you laugh.

His mouth is slightly open, lip arched, his eyes are wide but his brows are pulled together at your words and you could guess that he has never been so confused.

"What?" You almost giggle.

"By God, you care entirely too much."

You have to take a deep breath before he continues, "Your skin? What is it wrong with your skin? I quite like your skin. Would you rather I find you a furry pelt you can wear?"

It's moments like these that remind you of how silly this man is. You shake your head, but he continues, slowly, bewildered.

"Your... thighs touch? I see not how that could be an issue. Do not my thighs touch as well? How is it you are able to invent these things to be bothered by?"

Although you had been frustrated a moment before, you know he has a point. He had lived through many more centuries, it very well might have seemed strange to worry over such things.

Sukuna stands, coming closer without pause, and tugs on the draping of your garb. "What formula are you using to decide what looks good and what does not?" His hands find your body and squeeze over you in an almost ticklish way.

It was not sexual, it was not uncomfortable either. He was simply feeling you. He loved your being, whatever shell you presented in. Eventually, his palm came up and engulfed the top of your head, his fingers dangled by your eyes. "Hmmm, I cannot understand. Anything would be flattering if it was put on you."

A part of you wanted to murmur, "That's just what you're saying." But you knew Sukuna, and you knew he meant it. The concept that you might hold his same mindset was an impossibility at that moment in the hall of mirrors.

But you had many other moments to share with your King and believe me when I say, that man could be convincing.

[riddlesrose]

kissin him stupid

w/ the housewardens

in which you were recently gifted a tube of lipstick from grim, you're unsure of where he got it or why he decided it's yours now but it's given you a fantastic idea.

(he probably stole it from vil somehow and wants to place the blame on you..)

note; malleus' is the shortest but the most full of love i swear to goooood but the post itself is quite long

if riddle could form a proper sentence right now, he might scold you for slacking off, or breaking rule six hundred and seventeen, or he may just ask you to do it again. if colours could speak, his face would scream in comparison to the red accents in the housewarden’s room, uniform and matching hair. 

you attempt to keep a sober expression but he seriously cannot be so flustered by a single kiss? the red lip stain on his cheek is bright against the flush of his cheeks, as he sputters vowels and consonants, attempting to speak, to protest, to ask you what in the queen’s name are you doing.

you invited riddle over to the ramshackle dorm under the guise of needing help with studying, but you had this motive the entire time. riddle could feel your rebel to his help and directions if he ignored the obvious fact you hadn’t even cracked the spine of your book yet (to be fair it was only assigned today, and it was a new book), and the devious smile you attempted to hide until now. 

riddle took a breath, finally feeling sensible enough, “what… was that.” 

“affection, riddle. this isn’t new.” you shot, tone dripping in sarcasm. 

“yes, my rose, i know that. i mean,” he grabs hold of your uniform tie, drawing you closer, “what’s with the lipstick?” your head probably could have exploded, where did this riddle come from and how can he be drawn out more often?

you press a swift kiss to riddle’s other cheek, thanks to the proximity. “i have no explanation,” you press another kiss onto his forehead, “i simply was gifted it,” a kiss to his temple, “this morning.” the grip riddle has on your tie loosens completely as it falls back onto your chest, slightly wrinkled from the force. 

“i just had this ironed!” you frown. 

“i-i’ll get it done again.” riddle stands, brushing invisible dust off his jacket, though nothing could distract from the shade of pink that covers his face. 

“you’ll iron my tie for me? how kind.” you wrap an arm around riddle’s waist, pulling him close. he drops his forehead against your chest with a thud, inaudibly mumbling to himself. 

you wrap your other arm around him as he takes your face between his hands, slightly squishing into your cheeks he drags your face to his height, kissing you feverishly. 

“where did this riddle come from? i like him.” 

“i just felt… bold i suppose.” riddle’s red tinted lips smile against yours.

“do it again!”

leona stirs underneath you. you’re sat, straddling either side of his hips, weight pressed on his defined torso. leona doesn’t know it but you’ve practically trapped him where he sleeps. where he’s asleep currently, that is. in your dorm. 

on your couch.

using your pillows, taking in the setting sun like a true feline, though you would never dare utter the word feline anywhere near him lest you face the wrath of a moody boyfriend. 

you silently laugh to yourself, leaning down and pressing your lips on the prince’s temple.

leona stirs again at that, attempting to roll over – he cracks an eye when you gasp. slowly, coming to his senses, he furrows his brows at your positioning. you weren’t there when he fell asleep, when did you do that, and why are you sitting on him with half of a sinister smile across your lips…

and when did your lips turn red? he brings a hand up to rub his face, trying to shake the sleep out of his fogged mind, but you catch his hand before it makes contant. 

“don’t, it’ll mess up all my hard work,” you say with a half hint of embarrassment. (just a hint; only because you were caught before you could slip away undiscovered.)

leona’s confusion increases, as he detaches your hand from his wrist. he takes his freed hand up to your lips and swipes his thumb across your bottom lip, smudging it further across the line of your lip.

he inspects his red finger, “is this… lipstick?” you purse your lips in an attempt to stifle the laugh that bubbles in your chest. he looks ridiculous; eyes half lidded, nose crunched in focus and red marks painting his face.

your tinted lips curl upwards slightly into a smug grin, “maybe?” if leona knows one thing, it’s smug grins. he matches yours and wipes his thumb on your cheek, smearing the lipstick off his thumb and onto your skin. 

you playfully swat his hand away and lean down to continue painting your masterpiece, placing another kiss on his skin – onto the spot between his eyebrows. leona’s hand find your hip, giving a teasing pinch to the side. 

leona may be a prince used to some pampering, but this is some treatment he could get used to. 

azul has a finger in every pie, as riddle likes to say. you’re very much aware of that as your boyfriend likes to talk your ear off about his investments, new opportunities and the lounge. you’re so very proud of all of his hard work but sometimes he gets off on a tangent that doesn’t stop until you make him. usually with a kiss. it flusters him just enough that he forgets what he was going on about and it works every time. 

this time, however, was a bit different. azul didn’t take notice of the hue change of your lips as you leaned in and shut him up. drawing back, you snicker at his pursed lips and flushed cheeks, and the red lipstick smeared around his lips.

azul peeked in your direction, curious. you usually find it funny when he’s flustered like this but you were laughing a little too much. he noticed the messy red lipstick and furrowed his brows, wiping a finger across his lips. 

you suppressed a smile as you watched him curiously examine his stained finger, “it’s lipstick.” he concludes. 

“well… obviously? i thought that would have been pretty clear,” you grab his hand, wiping the red off of his finger. 

before azul can retort you lean in to kiss him again; anywhere you can get your lips on before he shells himself away, utterly embarrassed. a kiss to his cheek, jaw, forehead, nose, other cheek, forehead again, has him sputtering, almost begging to be released. 

azul places his free hand on your shoulder, trying to push you away while laughing between breaths. when you do back up, leaning back on your hand, he almost looks sad. (as if he wasn’t actively trying to get you off!) 

“so, mister ashengrotto? feeling loved and appreciated yet?” you give him a toothy grin, watching as his face contorts from flustered to even-more-flustered. (if that’s possible.)

“well yes! i dare say i’m feeling very valued and cherished as well.” despite his rosy features, his voice is unwavering, full of conviction. 

his confident, put-together outer layer completely melts away when you’re alone with him, but this has him absolutely on fire, a feeling no number could replace. numbers can’t give affection, you give it tenfold in their stead. 

kalim’s permanent grin widens when you claim you’ve got a gift for him. he expectantly holds out his hands, making you shake your head. 

“it’s more of an eyes closed kind of gift,” you start, kalim instantly squeezes his eyes shut. he puts so much trust in you that you worry jamil has eyes everywhere. everywhere. but you brush the jesting idea away, believing that you wouldn’t even be allowed on scarabia grounds if jamil didn’t trust you with the housewarden. 

you turn to a nearby mirror, passing the tube of red lipstick over your lips. the smooth makeup applies nice and neatly. (doesn’t matter because you know it won’t be neat for long.)

you step back over to where kalim’s sitting on the edge of his bed, standing between his knees. he’s waiting not-so patiently, he looks like he’s almost vibrating, is he really that excited? you suppress a smile as you gently grab onto his jaw, tilting his head to the side as you press your lips to his cheek. his laughter immediately fills the room, making you press more kisses over his face. one to his forehead, one on the nose, another on the other cheek, his temples, and anywhere you can get before he’s laughing too much, pushing you away.

“it tickles,” he heaves a breath, “stop!” a wider smile grows on his face after seeing yours, the red lipstick you applied had smudged around your lips, looking not-so neat. his face isn’t much better, tan skin littered in red kisses.

while you’re mentally retaining the image of kalim covered in red lip marks, you notice him looking more intently at you. you raise a brow, curiously.

“my turn, give it here!” he reaches a hand out, expecting the tube of lipstick?

you look at him bewildered, “what?” 

“my turn!” he repeats. he seems real set on returning the ‘gift’ it seems. kalim’s all smiles as you hand him the black tube. he exposes the stick and passes it over his own lips, tossing it aside and pulling you down to his seated height. he flattens his lips across the expanse of your face, getting at any skin he can just like you did to him. 

when he deems he’s finished, you’re dazed and equally covered in red lipstick stains, smiles wide across your faces. matching stained faces for matching blitheringly infatuated idiots.

vil leans on the back of his vanity chair; his face littered in different coloured lip marks. the reason? he claims he wants to see which ones compliment him the most. 

you know he already knows exactly which shades of each brand line do exactly that. (thanks, rook.) vil doesn’t know that you know he’s already figured this out. 

you wipe the makeup remover-soaked cotton pad across your lips, ridding it of the pink. “what would all of your fans think if they knew you were being covered completely in rainbow kisses?” you wipe the moisture from your lips as vil reaches around you to grab another tube, but you stop him. 

“i’m sure they would lose their minds,” you reach into your pocket, revealing a miscellaneous tube of lipstick, it matches none of the previously discarded lipsticks, nor does it have a brand logo on it. “where did you find this?” vil takes the lipstick in his hand, nimbly examining the exterior. he removes the top to reveal a rich, velvety red colour. his eyes widen just slightly. 

“it’s a secret,” you wink and take the lipstick from him and apply it, smiling as you replace its cap and let it fall from your hand, onto a messy vanity behind you. 

vil wraps an arm around your neck, drawing you closer to his seated level, “well, share your secret with me, if you would be so kind.” you swiftly close the gap between yourself and the housewarden, administering a healthy dose of red onto his lips and the surrounding skin. 

he parts first, his cheeks dawn a hint of pink that’s hidden behind the various stains on his otherwise perfect skin. he truly is the most beautiful person ever. makeup or not, hair tied back or loose, vil is sincerely as pretty as the morning's first light, a flower; freshly bloomed, and a fresh set of nails. 

“you’re staring. not that i mind,” you snap out of your hazy daydream about your gorgeous boyfriend and back into reality. 

“yeah, sorry. you’re just really fucking pretty.” you lean down and tenderly kiss his forehead as he internally squeals like one of his fan-girls. he really hit the jackpot with you as his (second) biggest fan.

idia looks up at you with wide yellow eyes, but they have a sort of gloss over them that makes you believe he would not want you to get up and leave his dorm right now. you grin at his feeble attempt of a silent, inconclusive plea. an ask to what, you’re unsure because his face (minus the eyes) and hands grabbing at you tell you he’s very much enjoying you straddling his hips right now.

you reach into your pocket, revealing your master plan. a tube of lipstick, you swipe it over your lips once, then twice before replacing the cap and tossing it down, letting it hit the plush bedsheet you’re atop. 

the translucent tips of his hair start to turn pink as you lean down towards his face. a trembling hand comes up to your shoulder, not pushing you away but seemingly grounding the housewarden underneath you. “how cute,” you smile against his lips, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth, then another to his left cheek, then the right. one more on his forehead for good measure. maybe one more. okay, one last one couldn’t hurt.

you sit upright and drag a hand down idia’s chest, over the sweater you know is probably two sizes to large for him, (but that’s how he likes them you suppose and it just makes for a more comfortable sweater when you steal ‘em) while admiring the definitely not smudge-proof lipstick marks on idia’s face, giggling as you compare the red smears to his blue features. you wonder if-

the rapid rise and fall of idia’s chest catches your attention, it almost sounds like he’s hyperventilating, but when you look up to his face it’s surrounded by fiery pink hair and a flush across his cheeks, spanning down his neck, you realize he’s fine. probably a little more than fine. 

“well, that’s some false advertising,” you smile, wiping at the edges of your lips lightly with a finger. idia snaps out of his stupor, hastily agreeing with a stuttered breath. his hands find your hips, giving you a small squeeze. you lean down and press a proper kiss to his lips, you lift away just as quick as you bent down, pushing idia back down as he chases you up, hoping for more. a pitiful whine escapes him as his hair burns brighter. 

the red lipstick mixes with his natural blue lips gives him a sort of purple that would put the octavinelle’s house colour to shame. though, he almost looks forlorn. the usual solemn and gloomy housewarden; reduced to a blushing mess after a few kisses. 

hilarious, isn’t it?

malleus’s eyes flutter shut, a pleased sigh escapes his lips. his hands, hidden by your sweater, trace messy patterns on your back as his nails scratch lightly. he’s unsure of how he got himself into this humanoid predicament but he’s not complaining. 

you’re sat in his lap, placing kisses all over his face, leaving red lip marks behind. 

“you look like you’re enjoying this more than i am, malleus.” you bring a hand up to rake it through his bangs, pushing them behind his horns and revealing the shiny scales hidden beneath. 

the housewarden cracks a sharp emerald eye, examining your features. the slope of your nose, the curve of your stained lips, your eyelashes, cheeks. your eyes. oh how he loves your eyes, the way they look up to him with adoration, not fear or indifference like other humans do. 

you cup his cheek, “malleus?” 

he blinks once, twice. the gloss over his eyes breaks, refocusing on you. “i apologize, i was lost in thought.” 

“i could tell,” you trace your finger to the tip of his ear, then drop your hand back into your lap. “what were you thinking of? me?” 

“yes.” 

“woah, okay. blunt!” heat rises to your face. 

a hand leaves your back, trailing around your side and up to tuck a piece of hair away from your eyes. “was i not suppose to tell the truth?” 

“no, malleus, you should have said you were thinking of pancakes.” 

“but i wasn’t? i was thinking of-” you cut him off, placing a kiss on his lips. 

“now, let me resume my art.”

malleus is more than happy to sit as still as the gargoyle statues he studies while you press kisses all over his face. he is, truly is.

this was so self indulgent i ain’t even sorry (is my favouritism showing??)

masterlist

[purinfelix]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ park sunghoon bf headcanons

a/n: maybe im just typical sunghoon bias but y'all cannot tell me he wouldn't be the most perfect bf ..... ANYWAYS i could probably do a pt2 of this just bc i have sooo many thoughts abt this man - or if u want hcs for any other members lmk too!

✦ such a responsible boy, like obviously he has all his own habits but he feels the need to keep them up especially around you

✦ for the first few months of your relationship he wouldn't kiss you first thing in the morning since he insisted his breath stank and would go to brush his teeth (though he grows too weak to your pleading, and gives in easily)

✦ it's this habit of taking care of himself that extends to you, he feels a sense of responsibility for your health and wellbeing

✦ "don't use your phone in the dark, it's not good for your eyes" - "make your bed first thing in the morning, it'll get messy otherwise" - "make sure to drink more water today, it's hot out,"

✦ they might sound like petty scolds or nagging to most but really they're just his way of making sure you're okay and showing that he cares about you, right down to the little things

✦ on that note, the type of boyfriend who is willing to go with you everywhere even if he's just trailing behind you - if it's to the supermarket or even around the block for your morning walk he's keen to come with

✦ a little clingy like that, though has enough self-awareness not to bother you, but he just wants to be around you lots !!

✦ i can definitely see him being an "acts of service" guy like he definitely does things for you without asking, and without even saying anything - like if he sees you struggling he'll help you silently, only turning to smile with satisfaction once he sees the grateful expression on your face

✦ admittedly at first he does do it a little bit so that he can show off in front of you - "they'll think i'm so tall and strong if i help them reach this shelf" is probably his thought process

✦ in that way he's really observant and attentive! like you might not think that he listens to all your rants or when you mention little things but he really takes it all in, also just the best listener ever

✦ tiny little things about your habits, foods you like or dislike or even your preferences when it comes to like what side of the bed to sleep on he learns and they become like second nature to him

✦ but if you ever point out how close he pays attention to you or any of the things he does for you he'll brush it off coolly with some excuse - "i'm only giving you the bigger piece because i'm not that hungry okay?" - even though you know far better

✦ this is because, despite how cool he might seem on the surface, he's not the most forward type, and things like pda or straightforward confessions make him flustered !!!

✦ like the few times he's grabbed your hand in public when you're walking together he physically cannot look at you while he does because he knows how red his face will get - but you can still notice the tips of his pale ears blushing pink

✦ whenever you're alone though he will go to absolutely any lengths to get you back for it and has a special talent of knowing just where to kiss you or what to whisper in your ear to get to you

✦ sometimes he tries reciting old cheesy romantic lines but he gets too shy or embarrassed to finish them

✦ like if you watch a romcom with him he'll be all sulky talking about how unrealistic it is and how corny the dialogue is, but give it a couple days and you'll notice him trying to act smooth like the main man

✦ also the kind of boyfriend who finds joy in teasing you lightly

✦ always saying things like "what would you do without me?" or "aren't you so lucky to have such a good boyfriend?" jokingly whenever he helps you out

✦ but if you were to ever try to get him back by saying something like "oh but you're so in love with me aren't you?" he'll just respond back slyly with "and what if i am?" or something and watch with a smirk as you take in his suddenly shameless words

✦ he's said it himself but he's really protective and possessive type (thinking about his reaction to the viral perilla leaf debate)

✦ though he's careful never to blame you for anything - because he isn't insecure about your relationship or how you feel, he's more worried about others having their eye on you

✦ really patient - definitely the kind of boyfriend who lets you do whatever you want like squish his face or bite his arm without even acknowledging it

✦ though he also definitely tests your patience once he gets comfortable enough and once he knows he can be weird around you - like he really is the loudest introvert if you give him the opportunity !!

[grapejuicebrat]

just friends - d.s.

warnings: none just disgustingly cute imagine😛

my masterlist

———

You had always been close with Madelyn. Ever since you met on set of one of her projects, the two of you clicked instantly. Movie nights, spontaneous road trips, and long FaceTime calls became routine. Naturally, through her, you met Drew Starkey.

At first, he was just Madelyn’s friend. Then, he was your friend, too.

And maybe—just maybe—you wished he was something more.

It wasn’t your fault he made it so hard not to fall for him.

Like right now.

“Okay, I’m calling it,” Drew announced, dramatically throwing down his controller. “I can’t beat you at this game. It’s physically impossible.”

You grinned, biting your lip to hide your victory laugh. “You say that every time, and yet you still challenge me.”

Drew groaned, flopping backward onto the couch beside you, one arm draped lazily across his face. “Because I have hope. Hope that one day, I’ll witness a miracle and actually win.”

Madelyn, sitting across the room, snorted. “I’ve been trying to tell you, Drew. She’s undefeated.”

He peeked at you from beneath his arm, his blue eyes playful. “How does it feel being this good at everything?”

You shrugged, nudging his leg with your sock-clad foot. “It’s a burden, honestly.”

Drew laughed, the warm, boyish sound making your heart do a stupid little flip.

Madelyn, ever the observer, smirked knowingly but said nothing.

It wasn’t weird that Drew always ended up sitting next to you, right? That his arm would somehow end up draped across the couch behind you, or that his fingers absentmindedly toyed with the hem of your hoodie? Totally normal friend behavior.

Right?

“Okay, I want ice cream,” Madelyn declared, standing up and stretching. “You guys coming?”

Drew barely reacted. Instead, he turned his head to look at you, eyebrows raised in silent question.

You exhaled dramatically. “Fine, but only if I get to pick the music in the car.”

Drew grinned. “Deal.”

———

The three of you ended up at your favorite little ice cream shop, the kind with fairy lights hanging outside and an old-school jukebox playing soft tunes in the corner.

As you stood in line, Drew nudged your shoulder with his. “What are you getting?”

You pursed your lips. “Undecided. Might need to try a few flavors first.”

Drew rolled his eyes with a smile. “Of course you do.”

When it was finally your turn, you asked for a sample of at least three flavors before deciding. Drew just stood there, watching with amusement, hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie.

“C’mon, just get cookies and cream,” he teased.

You scrunched your nose. “That’s your favorite.”

He grinned. “Exactly. Because it’s the best.”

You ended up going with a different flavor just to spite him. When you sat down at a small outdoor table, Drew immediately leaned over and stole a spoonful from your cup.

You gasped. “Drew!”

He just smirked. “What? You stole mine first.”

Madelyn, sitting across from you, wiggled her eyebrows. “You guys are cute.”

You nearly choked. “We’re—”

“Not dating,” Drew finished smoothly, though something unreadable flickered in his expression.

Madelyn just hummed, clearly unconvinced.

———

As the night went on, the three of you sat outside, talking and laughing under the glow of string lights. Drew’s knee bumped against yours more than once, but he didn’t move it away. When you shivered slightly from the night breeze, he wordlessly pulled off his hoodie and draped it over your shoulders, his fingertips grazing your collarbone for just a second too long.

Your stomach fluttered.

“Thanks,” you murmured, tugging it closer.

Drew just smiled, soft and warm. “Anytime.”

Madelyn, sipping her milkshake, smirked behind her straw. “You two are so oblivious.”

You turned to glare at her. “What is that supposed to mean?”

She just shrugged. “Nothing. Just… funny how you steal each other’s food, sit way too close, share clothes…”

Drew chuckled. “We’re friends, Maddie.”

Madelyn hummed again like she knew something you didn’t. “Sure. Friends.”

———

Later, when Drew drove you home, the car was quiet except for the soft hum of the playlist you picked.

He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. “You know, Mads isn’t wrong.”

You looked at him, startled. “About what?”

Drew glanced at you briefly before focusing back on the road. “About us.”

Your heart skipped. “What do you mean?”

Drew exhaled, shaking his head with a small smile. “I don’t know. It’s just… I like being around you. Always have.”

Something warm settled in your chest. “I like being around you too.”

He turned to you again at a red light, something unreadable in his blue eyes. “Yeah?”

You nodded, barely breathing. “Yeah.”

Drew’s lips twitched like he wanted to say more, but the light turned green, and he faced forward again.

But the air between you felt different now.

Maybe you and Drew were just friends.

But the way he looked at you tonight?

Maybe you weren’t just anything.

[mapiforpresident]

Sneaky

Bruna x Engen!reader

warnings: kissing, alludes to sex

~~~

It was late, and the hotel lobby was quiet, with most of the team either in their rooms or relaxing at the bar after the grueling match. FC Barcelona Femení had just finished an intense game, and while everyone was drained from the effort, you were still buzzing with excitement. Your plan was simple but thrilling—sneak into Bruna's room for a little late-night adventure.

You sat in the lobby for a few minutes, casually texting Bruna to confirm that everything was set.

Are you ready?

A moment later, your phone buzzed with her reply: Waiting for you. Hurry up.

Your heart skipped a beat as you stood and made your way toward the elevators. The excitement was contagious, and you couldn’t wait to see Bruna again. You had always loved the thrill of sneaking around—after all, you’d covered for your sister more times than you could count when she sneaked into Mapi’s room.

This time, though, it was you sneaking away, and you were more than ready to break a few rules.

As the elevator doors opened and you stepped out onto the team's floor, you took a deep breath. The hallway was eerily quiet, and you had to be careful. If anyone saw you, it would be difficult to explain yourself, especially with Ingrid being so protective of everyone.

You checked your phone again as you walked toward Bruna’s room, making sure the coast was clear. Just a few more steps. When you reached her door, you knocked softly, heart racing.

A few seconds later, the door cracked open, and Bruna peeked out. A smile immediately spread across your face as you saw her.

“Finally,” she whispered, pulling you inside quickly and locking the door behind you.

Bruna was wearing an oversized Barça hoodie and a pair of shorts, her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. She smiled, the kind of smile that made your chest ache in the best way.

The room was dimly lit by a bedside lamp, and the soft scent of lavender filled the air. It was peaceful, just you and her in the quiet hotel room.

“Hi,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Hi,” she replied, stepping closer.

The distance between you disappeared in an instant. Her arms wrapped around you, pulling you close as your lips met in a kiss that felt like coming home. It was soft at first, tentative, but quickly deepened as your hands found their way to her waist, holding her as if she might slip away.

The heat between you two was undeniable, and as the kiss deepened, you could feel her fingers tracing along your back, pulling you closer as if she never wanted to let go.

“You were amazing today,” she murmured against your lips.

“You’re just saying that because you love me,” you teased, earning a playful shove.

Her laughter was quiet but contagious. “Maybe. But it’s true.”

You lost track of time in her arms, the world outside her room fading away. The adrenaline from the game, the stress of the season—it all disappeared, replaced by the intoxicating warmth of her touch and the way she whispered your name like it was the only one that mattered.

You let yourself get lost in the moment, forgetting the world outside of the room, forgetting the match and the team, and focusing only on her. Your heart was racing, but not from nerves this time—it was from the electric connection between you two. You slid your hands up her arms, brushing her hair behind her ear, before your lips met hers again, more urgently this time.

It felt like you couldn’t get close enough. Just as Bruna deepened the kiss, the sound of footsteps echoed in the hallway, growing louder with each passing second. Your pulse quickened, and you broke the kiss with a soft gasp, eyes wide.

“Did you hear that?” you whispered, your heart hammering in your chest.

Bruna’s eyes flickered toward the door as the footsteps grew closer. “Shit,” she muttered. “It’s Alexia. She’s probably just checking on the team, but we can’t get caught.”

You quickly pulled away, a flash of panic in your eyes. “We need to hide!” you whispered urgently.

Before you could react, Bruna pulled you behind the curtain separating the window from the rest of the room. You crouched down, trying to hold your breath as the sound of Alexia’s footsteps grew closer.

You could hear her voice now, faint but clear as she stopped in front of Bruna’s door. “Everything alright in there?” she asked casually, her voice warm but tinged with curiosity.

Bruna shot you a nervous glance but kept her voice steady. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Just tired from the match. I’ll see you in the morning?”

Alexia paused, then sighed, clearly satisfied with that answer. “Alright, just checking. Get some rest.”

You both waited for what felt like an eternity until you heard Alexia’s footsteps retreat down the hallway. You exhaled a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding.

“That was way too close,” you whispered.

Bruna let out a nervous laugh, her hand resting on your arm. “You almost gave us away, you know that?”

You gave her an apologetic look. “I wasn’t planning on it, I swear.”

Bruna smiled, her expression softening. “It’s fine. You’re lucky we made it. Now, where were we?”

She pulled you back into her arms, kissing you again, this time slower and more tender, her hands cupping your face as if she wanted to savor every second.

For the next few hours, time seemed to stand still. It was just the two of you, hiding away from the world, your kisses passionate and your touches lingering. The rest of the team felt a million miles away as you shared this quiet, thrilling moment.

Eventually, though, you knew you’d have to leave. You couldn’t risk being caught, and as much as you didn’t want to go, you had to return to your own room.

You pulled away reluctantly, your fingers lingering on Bruna’s skin for a moment longer before you whispered, “I should go.”

Bruna smiled softly, but there was something in her eyes that made your heart race. “I know. I'll miss you.”

You smiled back, kissing her once more before pulling your clothes back on and slipping out of the room as quietly as you’d come in.

As you walked back down the hallway, a surge of happiness rushed through you. It had been risky, exciting, and everything you’d hoped for. But as you turned the corner, you ran straight into Alexia.

But as you turned the corner on your way back to your room, you ran straight into Alexia.

She raised an eyebrow, her arms crossed. “Late night walk?”

You froze, scrambling for an excuse.

But then, she smirked. “Next time, be quieter. And don’t let me catch you again.”

Your face burned as she walked away, leaving you standing there, stunned but grinning.

This was going to be a story you’d never forget.

[fullsunstrawberry]

[Part 21: THEY SHOULD BE FUCKING]

synopsis: New year's resolution leads to you hitting the gym with your two muscle-head friends. But things get complicated when feelings and emotions are involved.

warnings: swearing, talks of balls, heavy make out session

word count: 1.9k

a/n: had the worst day, hopefuolly this helps ur day be a little better <3

taglist CLOSED (18+)

Getting ready for bed, you put on your favorite oversized shirt and settle under the soft glow of your bedside lamp. Just as you lean back against the pillows, ready to relax, a quiet knock at your door pulls you from your thoughts.

Curious, you slip out of bed and pad across the room, opening the door to find Jeno standing there. He looks hesitant, his hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie, his gaze flickering nervously between you and the floor.

“Hey,” he says softly, his voice laced with concern. “Are you sure you’re okay? I couldn’t stop worrying about you.”

You blink, momentarily surprised by the sincerity in his tone. He’d already checked on you earlier, but here he was again, just to make sure.

“Jen,” you say with a small, grateful smile, “I swear I’m okay. You made everything better like you always do.”

He seems to relax slightly, the tension in his shoulders easing, but a flicker of doubt remains in his eyes.

“Are you really sure?” he presses, shifting awkwardly on his feet, like he’s caught between wanting to believe you and staying just to make sure.

You can’t help but laugh, the sound light and warm as you shake your head at his persistence.

“I promise,” you say, stepping to the side and gesturing to let him in. A teasing smile tugs at your lips as you add, “But if you’re still worried… Do you want to stay over? Just in case?”

His head snaps up, his eyes widening slightly as a faint flush colors his cheeks. For a second, he looks like he might mutter out an excuse, but then he meets your gaze, something unspoken passing between you. Slowly, a small, smile curves his lips.

“If you don’t mind,” he murmurs, stepping inside.

You close the door softly behind him, the faint click sounding loud. Almost immediately, the air feels different—warmer. Jeno glances around, the tips of his ears pink, his hands nervously fiddling with his hoodie.

“Where should I—?” he starts, rubbing the back of his neck, his usual confidence faltering as his eyes dart around your room.

Before he could finish his sentence, you find yourself moving without really thinking. Rising up on your toes, you lean in and press a quick, light kiss to his lips. It’s short but the soft warmth of his mouth lingers as you pull back, suddenly hyper-aware of your own boldness.

Jeno freezes, his breath catching in his throat, his wide eyes locked on yours. For a second, he doesn’t move, doesn’t even blink, like his brain is still trying to process what just happened.

“I—uh,” you stammer, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. “Sorry, I don’t know why I—”

“Don’t apologize,” he interrupts quickly, his voice low and steady, though his cheeks are still visibly flushed. His lips tug into the faintest smile, and his gaze softens as he steps closer.

“You don’t have to apologize,” he murmurs, his voice almost a whisper now, his face so close you can feel the warmth radiating from him. “But… if you’re going to do that, at least give me a chance to kiss you back.”

Before you can respond, his hand gently cups your cheek, and he leans in, brushing his lips against yours in a kiss that’s tender yet slow, as though he’s savoring the moment. 

When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests lightly against yours, and he lets out a breathy laugh, his usual boyish smile returning. “I, uh… wasn’t expecting that when I came back,” he admits, his voice still soft. “But I’m not complaining.”

You can’t help but laugh, your nerves fading as you take in his shy expression. “It just kind of happened,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, the two of just stood there, caught in the quiet, comfortable warmth of each other’s presence. Then Jeno tilts his head toward your room, his smile turning playful. “So… are you offering me the floor or am I upgraded to the couch?”

You shake your head with a smile. “You’ve been upgraded to the bed.” you said leading him down the hall to your bedroom.

“Wow, first a kiss, now this? You’re spoiling me tonight,” Jeno teases, though there’s a softness in his tone that betrays the weight of the moment.

Rolling your eyes and folded your arms. “Don’t let it go to your head. Remember I'm supposed to be really sad right now.”

He chuckles, ruffling his hair sheepishly. “Would cuddling help?.”

You barely take a second to think before blurting out, “Yes.”

Jeno blinks, clearly startled by your quick response. Then, a slow, mischievous grin spreads across his face. “Wow,” he says, leaning back slightly and crossing his arms. “That was fast. Like, not even a second of hesitation. Were you hoping I would ask?”

Heat rushes to your cheeks, and you glare at him, grabbing a pillow from your bed and tossing it at him. “Don’t make it weird, Jeno!”

He laughs, easily catching the pillow and hugging it to his chest. “I think we are long past weird...”

Jeno’s laughter dies down as he studies you, his grin softening into something warmer, more intimate. He moves around the bed to take a step closer, closing the space between you two. The playful tension lingers in the air, but there’s something else now.

“You’re not as sad as I expected for someone who said they were upset,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing. “Is this just an excuse to keep me here?”

You raise an eyebrow, faking irritation, but the blush in your cheeks betrays you. “Excuse me? You’re the one who showed up at my door all worried and adorable.”

“Adorable, huh?” he echoes, tilting his head slightly, his smile widening. “So you think I’m cute.”

You roll your eyes, but the grin tugging at your lips gives you away. “Stop teasing me! You’ve been demoted to the couch.”

He chuckles, his hands sliding into his pockets as he leans casually against your dresser, his posture relaxed but his eyes locked on yours. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he says, his voice dripping with mock fear. “So, how can I make it up to you?”

You narrow your eyes, trying to ignore the way your heart skips at his words. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Impossible to resist, maybe,” he quips, stepping closer until there’s barely any space between you. His tone is light, but his eyes search yours, his playful grin softening into something more vulnerable. “But seriously, if you need me… I’m here.”

The sincerity in his voice catches you off guard, and for a moment, all the teasing fades away. You look up at him, your breath hitching slightly as the weight of his words sinks in. He’s so close now, his presence warm and steady, his gaze unwavering.

“Jeno…” you start, but the rest of your sentence is lost as he reaches out, his fingers brushing lightly against your wrist. The touch is gentle, almost hesitant, but it sends a spark through you, and suddenly, the air feels hot.

“What?” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. His hand lingers against your skin, his thumb tracing slow, deliberate circles that make it impossible to think straight.

You swallow hard, your pulse racing as you meet his gaze. “You’re really not making it easy to stay sad.”

A slow, satisfied smile spreads across his face, and he steps even closer, his other hand resting lightly on your waist. “Good,” he says softly “Because I don’t want you to be sad.”

Before you can respond, he dips his head, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss. You respond without hesitation, your fingers tangling in his hoodie as you pull him closer, the warmth of his body grounding you in the moment.

When he finally pulls back leaning his head against your neck, his breath warm, he grins, his voice low and playful. “So… do I get to stay now? Or do I need to keep proving myself?”

Your head falls back, a soft, breathy laugh slipping past your lips. Your fingers tighten in the fabric of his hoodie before they trail downward, brushing against the hem. You toy with it for a moment, your touch deliberate, before slowly tugging it upward.

Jeno’s smirk deepens, his dark eyes watching you. Without missing a beat, he grabs the back of his hoodie and pulls it over his head in one smooth motion, leaving him in just a fitted t-shirt that clings to his frame. The soft rustle of fabric and the sharp cut of his grin send a shiver down your spine as he leans in closer, his voice teasing.

"Getting impatient, are we?"

“No more talking,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, but firm.

His smirk deepens. “Oh?”

You don’t give him the chance to say anything else. One hand slides up to the nape of his neck, pulling him back in, and he follows willingly—eagerly. His lips crash against yours, less measured this time, more desperate, more claiming. His hands trace the curve of your waist before gripping, pulling you even closer.

The kiss deepens, the warmth of his hands against your skin sending a shiver down your spine. Jeno moves instinctively, his grip tightening, as if afraid you might slip away. The air between you is thick and heavy.

You barely have time to register the way your heart pounds against your chest. His fingers trace slow, lingering patterns against your back, the touch gentle despite the urgency of his kiss. Your hands move of their own accord, sliding up his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beneath your fingertips.

When you finally break apart, your breaths come in short, uneven pants. Jeno’s forehead rests against yours, his grip still firm on your waist. His eyes flicker open, dark and unreadable, but the ghost of a smirk lingers on his lips.

“I should probably let you sleep,” he murmurs.

You tilt your head, catching the way his fingers still flex against your hips, unwilling to let go. “Do you want to?”

His silence is telling. Instead of answering, he leans in again, but this time, his lips find your jaw, then just below your ear, where he presses a lingering kiss before murmuring, “Not really.”

A shiver courses through you, and you don’t fight it. Instead, you tip your head slightly, giving him more space, and inviting him to continue.

“Jeno…” His name leaves your lips in a whisper, barely audible, but he hears it—feels it. His hands tighten around your waist, effortlessly lifting you off the ground just enough to guide you back toward the bed.

You let yourself fall back against the pillows, watching as he hovers over you, his expression shifting—fondness, adoring, but still teasing. “Still sad?” he asks, his voice soft yet playful, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin.

You can’t help the small laugh that escapes you. “You really don’t give up, do you?”

He shakes his head, dipping down to steal another kiss, this one slower, more deliberate, as if savoring the moment. “Not when it comes to you.”

And as the night stretches on, filled with whispered words and lingering touches, you realize how stupid you were for trying to get over him before you could even get under him.

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[moonstruckme]

fae!Sirius asks for your name and you give it to him immediately because he's just so pretty wtf and he feels too bad to steal it from you because you're looking at him like he's a god and sure, it's not uncommon for his 'victims' to think he's beautiful but something about *you* just makes his little fae heart race-

I'm so normal about him I promise <3

Babe you have no idea how this has sat in my brain since you sent it all those months ago. I am not normal about him. Thank you! <3

fae!Sirius x whimsical!reader ♡ 804 words

Sometimes, when you leave your gifts in the forest, you’ll think you hear movement behind you. A soft crunch of the leafbed, or a rustling in the trees overhead. You’ll catch the rich scent of soil after a storm, though it hasn’t rained for days and the sky is blue and cloudless. Sirius will watch as your head lifts, noticing these things, but then you’ll simply carry on with what you’re doing, stand up, and go home. 

One day, you stand up to go home and find him waiting for you. 

“Hello, lovely,” he says, watching in amusement as your human face stills with awe. Your lips part. 

You know instantly what he is. No human carries themselves like the fae do, like Sirius could melt into the foliage at whim and you’d never find a trace of him. None of your kind have features quite so fine, or hair so dark it eats the sun. Or eyes like his, ever changing, shifting colors like a fish’s scales. No, you recognize him with one look. 

To your credit, you recover quickly. “Hello,” you say back. 

Sirius smiles with his too-white teeth. “What have you brought me this time?” 

You look behind you, to the tree hollow where you leave your gifts, as though you’ve already forgotten. “Oh. It’s a new cheese I found. Sea salt and honey.” 

Sirius cocks his head, intrigued. “I’ve not had that before.” 

“I thought you might not have.” Your initial surprise is wearing off, giving way to a sweet airiness. Your smile is soft as fresh snow. “I try to bring new things for you to try. I didn’t realize how small the portions would be, though; you’re bigger than I thought.” 

Sirius looks at you, making his eyes flash. He expects you to flinch, but you gasp softly, leaning in as if to see better. Strange. 

“You think that because I’m this size now, I must always be,” he says. 

“Aren’t you?” 

He tsks, teasing. “Best not to make presumptions.” 

Once again, curiosity rules your expression. Your eyes squint and your brows twitch towards each other, but before you can ask more questions Sirius goes on. 

“You’re beautiful,” he says, a simple truth. He wonders if you know he can’t lie. “If you’d let me repay your generosity, I’d like to give you a gift in return.” 

Again, your lips part, but you hesitate. Such pretty lips, Sirius thinks. So expressive. 

“That’s alright,” you say after a moment. “I don’t need anything. They were for you.” 

Sirius hides a smile. Clever thing, not to accept gifts from the fae. 

“If that’s what you want.” He asks, in a voice like spidersilk, “But what should I call the beautiful girl who’s left me so many gifts?” 

You smile and give him your name without reservation. Perhaps not so clever after all. 

Sirius says it back to you, rolling it around in his mouth. It leaves a sweet aftertaste on his tongue. You nod in clueless confirmation. 

“Can I ask yours?” 

“No,” says Sirius, “you may not.” 

You don’t appear offended. Your eyes are placid and trusting. Maybe it’s that look that makes him hesitate. Sirius knows what he’s meant to do now, what he’s done to others before you, but he finds himself tempted to wait. To see what you do next. 

“Well,” you say after a long silence, “I hope you like the cheese. If you want more, I can bring you some next time, but I should probably be getting home now.” 

“So soon?” Sirius asks. Though the breeze is cooling, and the sun’s dying rays tangle in your hair. 

You smile, almost apologetic. “Yeah, but—oh. Here, I forgot.” You reach into your bag, drawing out a long feather. It’s onyx black and shines like oil in the fading sunlight. “I found this at a friend’s house a few days ago, I meant to leave it with the cheese.” You look at him, shameless in your appraisal. “It sort of looks like your hair.” 

Sirius smiles, feeling the stretch of his lips with an odd sort of amusement. “It does,” he agrees. He lets you place the feather in his hand and feels the warmth of your fingertips on his skin with something like awe. A human has never been so bold as to touch him before. 

“I’ll visit soon,” you say, granting him one last, serene smile as you turn to go. “I hope you come out and say hello.” 

He thinks that he might. As you walk away, feet padding softly on grass and the shadows of trees falling over you like loving touches, he considers stealing the name you gave him so freely. 

But you’re lovely, and Sirius is a hedonist. He wants a taste of those lips given of your own free will. 

[dark-night-hero]

Imagine being Sung Jinwoo's spouse who suddenly got thrown into another universe where you don't exist and happened to meet someone who looks exactly, after your husband.

Imagine walking on your way home with your husband and then all of a sudden, you found yourself falling, the last words you have heard was your husband calling out your name. In which you did the say, callig out your husband name instinctively within the first few seconds you were falling. But after a few more minutes of falling, here you are, falling in the midst of darkness. Crossing your arms in annoyance, thinking of what kind of scenario were you sent into.

Imagine zooming in, looking down. You realise you were getting closer to the ground and not just it. There was a man you are about to fall into, "Hey! Watch out!" You would be okay if you land on your one, but you're afraid that if you happened to hit someone with the speed you're going down, you might ended up hurting them. But it was already too late by the time he looked up. "SHIT!" "I told you to watch out!"

Imagine finding yourself in the midst of a dungeon. The young man across you be looking very familiar, like he took it right after your husband. "What?" He asked, taking another bite of the food you had just cooked inside the dungeon. It has been a few hours ever since you crushed into this man. A few hours since you were separated with Jinwoo. Its been a few hours since you realised you've been thrown into a different alternate universe.

"Nothing." You look away. A universe where Jinwo has a brother? No, he doesn't look like his brother. If anything, you could guess who he was. "I doubt it was nothing-" "Come to think of you, you look very young... but well off. You should enjoy your youth, where are your parents? Why are you inside a dungeon by this age?" Taken back by your questions, he look away. "They're gone." "What? Like dead?" "I don't know, they're missing. I'm trying to find them." "Oh."

Imagine for the first time, in comparison to the fierce and competent young man that was leading and fighting earlier. The man in front of you looks vulnerable, like a son longing fornhis parents. Maybe it was his face that made your heart soften even more. Standing up from your seat, you sat down right beside him and gave him a comforting hug from the side. "Hey, hey, kid. It's alright. You'll find them." You gently pat him on the back. "(First name)!"

Imagine looking back at the familiar voice only to find your husband frowning as he hurriedly approached your direction. Withdrawing gently from the young man kid, who finally felt the approaching man from behind, he sat up straight and was about to turn to look at him when he catch a glimpse of arm on his side, arm which was now wrapping you into a hug as the man knelt down to your level. "Thank goodness I found you." "Ji- darling. It's okay, it's alright. You found me." You chuckle returning the hug and patting him on the back, giving the shocked kid right beside you an apologising gaze.

"Woah, the two of you..." looked a like... You thought but did not dare say it out loud. Jinwo was sitting next to the young man whom you have learned that his name was Suho. Both were Sung which means all of your thoughts were right all along. He was... the son of Jinwo in his universe. "What?" Jinwoo asked. "Nothing." You smile. How cute. Though the fact that Suho does not seem to recognise his own father, although in a different universe and probably in a much younger appearance seemed quite bothersome yet relieving at the same time. "Come to think of it, Suho-ah what are you doing in here? Why are you all alone?"

Imagine it turns out the kid had already gone through the dungeon once and reentered to see if there was any survivors inside but only found you in the process as well as come across Jinwoo who was looking for you. In the end, Jinwoo and you decided to accompany him as he deep dive into the dungeon. "How did you find me?" "I manage to squeeze in thanks to the fragments of the shadow monarch. But mostly because you left traces all over that leads me to you." He sigh, taking your hand closer to his face and nuzzle to it causing you to smile softly at him. "Don't worry, I'm alright. If anything, I'm worried about thay little guy." You nudge at the direction of Suho. "Ah." Jinwo just looked at the back of the young man.

Imagine in the process of exploring the cave, Jinwo realised that this was a place he more familiar with as this was the place had come across and killed the monarchs. Leading him into telling and explaining Suho what was this all about. You just follow them from behind, looking at the two fondly as Jinwoo helped Suho gain a better understanding of everything, even helped him made pack with Rakan's fang enabling him to use it. "Hey you two, enough of that. Food's ready." "Yes." "We'll be there in a minute babe." "I told you not to call me that."

Imagine after a all the exploration and quest inside the dungeon, it was finally your time to part ways as the three of you stand right infront of the dungeon gate. "I'm afraid this is as far as we can go with you, sweetheart." You looked at the young man softly. It was short while but it seems like you grew fond of the kid. "That is to say, the two of you aren't exactly from here." "You knew it all along you pun-" "Father." That made Jinwoo pause.

Imagine Sung Suho who manage to connect the dots and knew it all along this time. "You're my father at the same time, you aren't my father." He explained calmly. Then Suho faced you who still has a relax and gentle look on your face. "You aren't my mother." You have him a small yet genuine smile, because that was the truth. You knew he was Jinwoo's son, but this kid weren't yours and probably would never be. "There wasn't a (Firstname)(Lastname) in this world, so you cannot be my mother." He explained. By that you could feel the way Jinwoo shifted closer to you than he was earlier. But you turn to look at him and gave him a reassuring smile.

"Aren't you confused by that fact?" "Hmm? That my father- he was married to you than my mother? Not really." "Why is that?" "Because-.." because Suho had never seen his father in this world looked at you the same way this alternative universe Sung Jinwoo look at anyone else. While its true that his father love his mother in this world. The way this Sung Jinwo right in front of him looks like you was nothing he have ever seen before. This version of his father looked so in love, so contented, so genuine like he has everything in front of him when he looks at you. "Because?" "Nothing."

Imagine the way Suho let out a genuine laugh which has been a while. After everything that has been happening, its been a while since he have someone looking after him like his parents used to do before they went missing. "You two should probably get going, I alreay took too much of your time-" he was cut off by a bone crushing hug by you. "It was nice meeting you. Always be careful, okay?" "Hey, listen to them you punk." Jinwoo messed with hair before joining the hug and then pulling you away from Suho. "We'll stay here until you get out safely." Jinwoo added. "So go-" "Wait! Here, take this." You have Suho a pocket watch. "This-" "Take it. I'm leaving it with you." "Then... thank you."

Imagine as Suho looked back and forth between the gate and you two. He give you two the brightest smile he have before saying "I know you aren't really by father but... Father, please look after them and never let them go, okay?" "You have my words, son." With a little bit of regret, Suho left. If he was being honest, he's quite jealous by the fact that he probably wouldn't even become your son back in your world.

"He's a good kid." "Hmmm." Jinwoo nod as the two of you find yourself back in your own universe. "Who knows, maybe if we try hard enough he'll end up as our child." "I'm not even his-" "Does it bother you? We could always try and try until-" "You silly punk. Do you think it qould be ea- Sung Jinwo! Set me down you-" "Nope, nope nope. We're taking this to bed."

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2025°

: this is my biggest what if.

[sweetcherriexs]

that's hot; b.e.

smut...

billie’s fingers trailed lazily over the edge of your jeans, her nails catching just enough to make the you shiver.

you were sprawled out on billie’s bed, the late afternoon sun casting a warm glow through the blinds, and the air between you was thick with the kind of tension that made words unnecessary. It was one of those moments where every touch felt louder than a scream, every breath heavier than it should be.

“you’ve been acting weird all day,” billie murmured, her voice low and teasing as she leaned in closer, her lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “what are you hiding?”

you let out a shaky laugh, trying to play it cool even as your pulse quickened under billie’s scrutiny. “I’m not hiding anything,” you said quickly, though the way her eyes darted away told a different story.

billie wasn’t having it. she propped herself up on one elbow, her dark hair falling over her shoulder as she gave you a look that could only be described as dangerously curious. “really? because I know you, baby, and right now, you’re being… squirmy.”

you squirmed again, this time for an entirely different reason, as billie’s hand slid lower, the tips of her fingers dipping just beneath the waistband of your jeans. your breath hitched, but you clamped down on the sound before it could escape.

“c’mon,” billie pressed, her smirk growing wider. “tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours.” her voice was a soft murmur. gentle and velvety but so so hot and warm just like her breath on your skin.

you hesitated, biting your lip as if weighing your options. but there was something about the way billie looked at you—like she could see straight through you, like she already knew whatever secret you were keeping—that made it impossible to stay quiet.

“fine,” you finally relented, voice barely above a whisper. “but promise you won’t freak out.”

billie raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. “freak out? now you’re really making me nervous.” she said, a tinge of sarcastic humour in her tone as her eyes shone, watching you.

you shifted, sitting up slightly so you could face billie more directly. your hands fidgeted with the hem of your shirt, and for a moment, you looked like you might back out. but then you took a deep breath and turned around, lifting your shirt just enough to reveal the small of your back.

there, etched into your skin in delicate black ink, were two letters: B.E..

billie froze, her eyes widening as she took in the sight. for a moment, she didn’t say anything—couldn’t say anything. her mind raced, trying to process what she was seeing. but at the same time, she could feel desire bubbling deep within her, heart speeding up.

“Is that…” she started, her voice trailing off as she reached out to trace the tattoo with her fingertips. Her touch was feather-light, almost reverent, as if she couldn’t quite believe it was real.

you nodded, cheeks flushing with a mixture of embarrassment and pride. “your initials,” you confirmed, voice trembling slightly. “I got it last week.... thought it'd look nice" you bit your lip, eyes watching her whole body, waiting for a reaction.

"that's so hot..." she breathed out.

billie’s breath caught in her throat, and for a moment, she was speechless. then, without warning, she flipped you onto your stomach, pinning your wrists to the bed with one hand while the other traced the tattoo again, harder this time. the action made you squirm ans whimper, her touch electrifying.

“you’re fucking insane,” billie muttered, her voice husky with desire. “do you have any idea what this does to me?” she had to hold back a moan as she fully took you in.

you tried to respond, but the words died in your throat as billie’s lips found the sensitive spot just below your ear. your body arched instinctively, pressing back against billie's as a moan escaped your lips. her breath was hot against your neck, making you lightheaded.

“I can’t decide if I want to punish you or worship you,” billie growled, her teeth grazing your neck in a way that sent shivers down your spine. “maybe both.”

before you could react, billie’s free hand was tugging at your jeans, pulling them down just enough to expose the curve of your ass. The sudden rush of cool air against your skin made you gasp, but it was nothing compared to the heat of billie’s palm as it came down on her bare flesh with a sharp smack.

the sound echoed through the room, followed by a choked-off cry from you as pleasure-pain rippled through your body. billie didn’t give you a chance to recover, delivering another slap—harder this time—before leaning down to press a kiss to the reddened skin.

"you’re mine,” billie whispered, her voice dripping with possessive hunger. “and this”—her fingers brushed over the tattoo again—“proves it.”

you could only nod, thoughts dissolving into a haze of need as billie released your wrists and stood up long enough to grab the strap-on from the drawer beside the bed. when she turned back, there was a predatory glint in her eyes that made your stomach flip.

“hands and knees,” billie ordered, her tone leaving no room for argument.

you obeyed without hesitation, positioning yourself on all fours as billie adjusted the harness. the anticipation was almost too much to bear, your entire body trembling with the knowledge of what was coming next.

billie stepped closer, running her fingers along the length of the strap before lining it up with your entrance. she paused, savoring the way your breath hitched, the way your hips shifted ever so slightly, silently begging for more.

“tell me what you want,” Billie demanded, her grip tightening on your hip.

you swallowed hard, voice barely audible when you finally spoke. “fuck me. please, billie-... i need it”

billie smiled, slow and wicked. “good girl.”

With that, she pushed forward, burying herself to the hilt in one smooth motion.

your cry was muffled by the pillow you've buried your face in, nails digging into the sheets as billie set a ruthless pace.

"fuck-... fuck" you moaned loudly, eyes rolling back in pleasure as her cock hit deeper and deeper inside your wet pussy. "s-...s'good" you drew out, mouth hanging open to get air inside your lungs.

every thrust was deliberate, each one driving you closer to the edge. billie’s hands gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises, anchoring you in place as she fucked you with relentless intensity.

“you look so good,” billie groaned, her own breath coming in short, ragged gasps. “taking me so well, pretty, fuck, you’re perfect.”

billie’s eyes were strained on the small of your back, watching your tattoo – her initials – as you pushed your hips back in time with her thrusts.

"p-please...- fuck!" you gasped out "so-...wan'more, bils. mmm, yes, yes"

you couldn’t form coherent words, your world reduced to the sensation of billie inside you, the sound of your bodies colliding, the smell of sweat and sex filling the air. you were close—so close—but billie wasn’t ready to let you finish yet.

without warning, billie pulled out, earning a whimper of protest from you. before you could recover, billie flipped you onto your back, spreading your thighs wide as she knelt between them.

“eyes on me,” billie commanded, her voice cutting through the haze of lust clouding your mind.

you obeyed, gaze locking with billie’s as your girlfriend positioned herself at your entrance once more. this time, when billie pushed in, she did it slowly, savoring every inch until she was fully seated.

the slow sensation of billie entering you made you whimper and moan. your pussy sucked her cock right back in, eager to be filled up to the brink over and over again.

“say it,” billie demanded, her voice rough with need.

your lips parted, but the words wouldn’t come. billie thrust sharply, hitting a spot that made your vision blur and your breath catch as your eyes rolled back.

“say it,” Billie repeated, her tone leaving no room for defiance.

“I’m yours,” you gasped, voice breaking on the words. “only yours.”

"good girl" billie panted out, hands running up and down your body, squeezing your tits. "lookin' so pretty f'me, baby" she murmured, her hips snapping against yours at a rough pace. your head was thrown back, nails clawing at the sheets as you cried out in pleasure.

"billie-" you moaned. you could feel your clit throbbing with a need to be touched, your hole being filled over and over again, stuffed with billie's cock.

"yes, baby?" she hummed, a smirk on her hips as her hands left your tits, one hand stilling your hips while the other rested just above your aching pussy, her thumb pressing down on your clit, making you moan louder and squeeze your eyes shut, starting to feel lightheaded with pleasure.

"fuck-... please, please... wanna cum f'you"

"mm, yeah? is that right?" billie chuckled lowly, a glint of mischief and desire. "okay..." she breathed out, leaning down to your face, but her hips never stop. her breath was hot and heavy against your own as she opened her mouth the same way yours was open, mocking you as you whimpered and moan with each thrust into your wet cunt. "you can..." she purred softly. her thumb was now moving on your clit, circling it painfully as your breathing grew heavier, eyes locked on hers.

"yes, baby... that's it" she whispered, watching with deep satisfaction as your chest rose and fell faster, the knot so tight you couldn't even move and you were quiet for a single moment before you let out a scream, eyes rolling back as billie held you, working you through your orgasm.

"did so good, pretty" she murmured, kissing your jaw and neck, trailing down your throat before coming back up and kissing your lips. she slowly pulled out relishing in the way you whined into her mouth at the feeling before she also withdrew her hand, placing her thumb to your lips after she pulled away.

"suck" she ordered and you quickly and mindlessly took the finger between your lips, tongue swirling around it. when billie decided it was enough she pulled it out, stroking your cheek for a brief moment before she started going down your body, skin glistening with a sheen of swear on your whole body.

"I want a taste too" she chuckled as she kissed down your pelvis, watching your face as slightly panic filled your eyes, but you could feel yourself getting wetter once more, pussy throbbing for her tongue.

rushed...

[fear-is-truth]

ft. in-ho (frontman) ‧ hyun-ju (120) ‧ nam-gyu (124) ‧ su-bong (230) ‧ se-mi (380) ‧ dae-ho (388)

a/n — pov: you’re a player in the game

HWANG IN-HO (황인호) / FRONTMAN

in-ho notices before you even say anything. in-ho isn’t one for emotional conversations, but he’s super observant. he picks up on the way your shoulders tense, how you’ve gone quiet. he won’t call it out immediately, but he clocks it.

he doesn’t dance around it. the moment he notices something’s off, he tells you. “you look upset.” not a question, just an observation.

gives you space to talk but doesn’t pry. if you want to tell him, you will. in-ho won’t ask unnecessary questions or pressure you for details. just a quiet, expectant pause, as if he already knows you’ll answer.

doesn’t hover, doesn’t fuss. just stays close enough to remind you that you’re not alone.

his version of comfort is practical, no empty reassurances. if there’s something to be done, he’ll do it. if not, he makes it clear that whatever it is, he’ll handle it for you.

if you haven’t eaten, he’ll make sure you do. sets a warm drink beside you without a word. adjusts the thermostat if it’s too cold. finds small ways to ease your discomfort.

physical comfort is rare but meaningful. maybe a firm hand on your shoulder, a slow squeeze before pulling away. he isn’t overly affectionate, but if you lean into him, he doesn’t pull away.

CHO HYUN-JU (조현주) / PLAYER 120

sits down next to you and takes your hand. just reaches over and laces her fingers with yours, thumb brushing against your knuckles. warm, solid. she’s not letting go unless you do first.

leans in a little, tilts her head toward you, brows slightly furrowed. “talk to me.” not a really a demand, just an open door. if you shake your head, she won’t press, just squeezes your hand lightly.

pep talks like it’s second nature. if you start spiraling, hyun-ju is quick to counter it. “okay, listen. you’re not a failure, you’re not a burden, and whatever your brain is telling you? it’s wrong.” her voice is firm, but there’s a softness to it. “you’ve got this. i know you do. and i’m here if you ever need me.”

reminds you of your strength. “you’ve survived worse,” she says, squeezing your fingers. “you always pull through. and even if you don’t believe in yourself right now, i do.”

stays until you’re okay. whether it’s five minutes or an hour, she’s not going anywhere.

NAM-GYU (남규) / PLAYER 124

at first, nam-gyu just observes—eyes flicking over your face, noting the way you’re withdrawn. he doesn’t ask what’s wrong right away, just sits nearby, waiting.

he’s not naturally comforting, but he knows how to play the part. if he wants to keep you close, he has to. so he tilts his head, widens his eyes a little, makes his voice soft. “you okay?”

“i don’t like seeing you like this,” he murmurs, tucking his hands into his sleeves like paws, like he’s the one who’s hurt.

he touches you more when you’re upset. a hesitant pat on your back, a nudge of his knee against yours.

if you lean into him, he doesn’t pull away. might even rest a hand on your head for a second before clearing his throat and acting like he didn’t.

CHOI SU-BONG (최수봉) / PLAYER 230

his version of concern is kinda abrasive. “you look like shit,” he says instead of asking what’s wrong. he’s not trying to be mean (for once), just stating the obvious. it’s his way of getting you to talk.

gets uncharacteristically serious if it’s bad. if he realizes this isn’t just a bad mood, his usual joking stops.

weirdly loyal in moments like this. for all his loudmouth tendencies, he doesn’t go blabbing about your problems to anyone else. if you trust him with something, he keeps it to himself.

his version of comfort is physical. a hard pat on the back, an arm slung around your shoulders. if you’re really down, he might—might—go as far as ruffling your hair like you’re an annoying little sibling.

doesn’t do deep talks. if you try to open up, he’ll listen—kind of—but don’t expect much in the way of emotional wisdom. “yeah, life kinda sucks. what else is new?” it sounds dismissive, but he’s actually just bad at handling this stuff. still, he stays, which says more than his words ever could.

if someone upset you, he’s taking names. next thing you know, that person is “accidentally” getting shoved in the food line or tripped up during a game.

deflects with humor. his go-to method for cheering you up is cracking jokes or roasting someone else to make you laugh.

tries to distract you. if talking about feelings isn’t your thing, he’ll change the subject. starts rambling about something random, or nudges you into a conversation about literally anything else.

if you cry, he freezes for a second. but he recovers quickly, sighs, pulls you into a loose hug. “shh, shh. don’t cry, it’s ugly.”

not good at expressing sincerity, but he tries. if he sees you sulking too long, he gets fidgety. taps his fingers, rolls his shoulders, then finally mumbles, “look, just don’t—don’t let this shit eat you up, alright?” he won’t say more than that, but the concern is genuine.

SE-MI (세미) / PLAYER 380

she notices immediately. she won’t say anything at first, just side-eyes you now and then, gauging your mood. she’s not the type to ask, “are you okay?”—she knows if you want to talk, you will.

gives you space, but not too much. she’ll stay nearby, maybe leaning against a wall, arms crossed. not hovering, just making it clear that she’s there if you need her.

eventually, she’ll make a passing comment like, “you’re quiet today.” not prying, not pushing—just an opening if you want to take it.

subtle gestures. she’s not physically affectionate, but if she knows you need comfort, she might nudge your shoulder lightly, hand you an extra piece of her food, or offer to hold your hand without saying anything.

if someone upset you, she’ll remember. she won’t make a scene, won’t go after them like thanos or nam-gyu, but she’ll keep a mental note. next time there’s a chance to put them in their place (verbally), she will.

makes sure you’re okay without making it obvious. later, when things have calmed down, she’ll casually check in. “feeling better?” short, simple, but it means she cares.

KANG DAE-HO (강대호) / PLAYER 388

doesn’t push. if you’re not in the mood to talk, dae-ho respects that. he just plops down beside you next to you, close but not crowding, letting his presence do the comforting. sometimes, that’s all you need.

knows when to joke and when to stay quiet. if he senses you need a distraction, he’ll say something lighthearted. if you just need silence, he respects that too. he grew up with four sisters—he knows when to shut up and when to just be there.

gives you a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder or a light pat on the back.

super empathetic. if you do open up, he listens without interrupts, just nodding along, occasionally humming in agreement. he won’t try to fix things with empty words—just validates how you feel.

gets protective of you in an almost brotherly way.

dae-ho never makes you feel like a burden. no frustration—just patience, warmth, and support.

──⟢  fear-is-truth — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[back2bluesidex]

Misconception - MYG ft. KSJ

Pairing: Yoongi X Fem!reader X Seokjin

Theme: Angst, friends to ? au, cheating

Wordcount: 1.2k+

Summary: You and Yoongi have been friends for nine years, you have loved him for five of those. But reciveing nothing but pain from his end you decide to move on only for Yoongi to come breaking down your resolve.

Warnings: Jealous Yoongi, bad decisions, kissing without permission, cheating

Minors are not allowed in this blog!!

A/N: Just a little piece from Six Degrees of Separation.

Read the full Series here

Yoongi knows it’s unfair and childish but he doesn’t like this Kim Seokjin at all. 

For one, he is unbelievably handsome. 

For two, he seems to really like you. 

And Yoongi never liked the guys who liked you too much. While back then, he never acted upon his disapproval because he was sure of his irreplaceable position in your life, now he is not sure anymore. 

His eyes land on you with every little chance he gets tonight. He is aware that he is staring at you much more than it’s socially acceptable but honestly, he doesn’t give a damn. 

While staring at you, he had made a couple of eye contacts with Seokjin, which really pissed him off. 

He doesn’t like being caught red-handed. 

“Can you show me the way to the restroom?” Seokjin’s voice is as sweet as his face. Yoongi absolutely hates it. 

“Sure. That door.” he vaguely points towards the washroom. Seokjin leaves but not before giving him a cryptic glance. 

As soon as the man is inside the restroom, he finds his feet working on autopilot and in moments he is standing before you. 

“You look good.” he says shamelessly as if he didn’t burn you with his cigarette just a year back. Your face morphs into hurt, then sarcasm all within a second. 

“Thanks.” avoiding looking at him, you take a large sip from your glass. Your ignorance stings him like a freshly injected needle. 

“Have you eaten anything? Or are you drinking again on an empty stomach? You know you don’t do good-” it’s his habit to babysit you and old habits die hard.

“The Yoongi that pushed me that night at Jimin’s place and the Yoongi before me are completely different. Why are you pretending so hard, Yoongi? Are you afraid I might step in between you two? If you are then don’t worry. I am not as bad as you think of me. Chill.” you cut him off, try to leave him behind but he stops you. His hand holds you in place and his heart thumps from the skin-to-skin connection. 

“I am not pretending. I am repenting. I- I am extremely ashamed for the way I behaved with you that night. I regret everything. Every single thing, Y/N.” so many unsaid words threaten to spill out of his throat. He is not sure about anything anymore. 

Not about himself, not about Hyeri, not about you. 

“I don’t know how that matters anymore. You can’t take back what you said and did and I.. I can’t go back being your friend. So, let’s just stop here. Congratulations on taking your relationship with my cousin a step ahead. My good wishes will always be with you two.” you smile but it falters. 

“Y/N, please-” he tries to say something, anything that will make you listen to him. But fate has different plans. 

“Yoongi, what are you doing here?” Hyeri butts in and the only chance Yoongi could get with you, slips away right through the gaps between his fingers. 

“Attention everyone.” Hyeri claps her hands, “thanks for joining us this evening. As you know me and my boyfriend finally decided to move in together after dating for five years. But there is more to it. Not only did we decide to move on but also to finally put a ring on each other as the first thing in the new year. So, today also serves as the official invitation for you all to our engagement ceremony which will be held sometime next month. Please bless us with your well wishes. Even though we have fifteen minutes left, a very happy new year to you all!” 

Yoongi’s blood boils. He sees red. Hyeri has truly crossed the line now. They have no fucking plan of exchanging any kind of rings for at least six more months. She is all over the place with her lies, competition to walk over you - It was the last nail in his coffin. 

He will have to take a step now. 

“What do you think you are doing?” he seethes, anger pours through his eyes. 

Hyeri acts all innocent again, “what?” 

“You know what I am talking about.” 

“Oh that? I just said it on a whim. Chill, it’s just rings. Let’s get it in installments. We can invite only a few people and get done with the engagement ceremony-” “You know what? Fuck you.” Yoongi cuts her off and leaves for the balcony. 

It’s already past midnight, a new year, a completely new day. And he will make sure to make it a new beginning for him. 

His heart drops to his stomach when an unexpected sight unfolds before him. 

Your lips are lost in Seokjin’s mouth. He is holding you by your waist, while you wrap him by his neck. He has draped his blazer on you to keep you warm. 

You two kiss and kiss and kiss not giving a damn about being caught by anyone in the action. Unbeknownst to Yoongi, his teeth girt with each other.  

This. this could have been him and you only had he not have Hyeri - wait. What is he even thinking? 

He clears his throat to break through the troubled thoughts that have clouded his mind and reduced visibility to zero. 

You two part your mouths being alert of the presence of a third person. 

You look at him, he looks at you. So many things remain unsaid, unchanged but at the same time blooming into existence. 

“I think it’s time we leave. I will get the car ready.” Seokjin announces, sounding breathless due to the kiss. 

“I will quickly see Hyeri.” You nod. 

“I will walk you out.” Yoongi joins even when he absolutely didn’t have to. 

You two get into the elevator after you exchange a quick bye and a hug with Hyeri. She had pinned him down with a glare but he didn’t care. He needs to talk to you, even when he doesn’t know what he should say. 

“Thanks for coming.” he starts. 

You scoff, “Are you mocking me?” 

He turns his head to look at you. Your lipstick is a little smeared around the small of your mouth - it’s Seokjin’s doing, he wants to rub it off, preferably with his tongue. 

Fuck! No! He scolds himself before opening his mouth to offer an explanation, “No. You joining us tonight have been fruitful to me. I got answers to so many of my questions.” 

“What?” you chuckle humorlessly, “what question? That you are finally ready to tie the knot? That you-” 

Yoongi grabs you by the lapels of your winter coat and crashes his lips on you. Later, he will blame it on his intrusive thoughts. Now, he will let himself enjoy it. 

He kisses you with intent, sucks your lower lip as if it’s his first meal after days. You stay unmoving, not kissing him but not pushing him away either. 

He bites on your lower lip, asking for entrance. You put your hands on his chest and push him away lightly. 

Your pupils are blown out. There are so many questions dancing around your eyes. Yoongi is sure he has answers to none of it. 

Your face remains blank. 

“I won’t ask you what the fuck was that. Guess we are even now.” you say. The elevator dings as if to rescue you from him. You walk out without glancing at him again. 

He remains in the elevator, watches as the door shuts, cutting you off of his line of sight. 

Yoongi really fucked up a big time.  

Read the full Series here

[bitchqueenofthebitchsquad]

The excuse of "what about the mentally ill or traumatized teens" doesn't sit right with me. Fanfic is a performative art, you are showing off for an audience. It's sharing, it's storytelling, it's an interaction between you and other people. Yes, some people are driven to write as a way to manage their pain. Totally get it. But why choose a venue to process your mental anguish that is public unless you are willing to face public feedback? The same way I am mindful of other people's feelings in a conversation, I am mindful of other people when I write something I'm going to share with them.

Of course the nuance is that sometimes as a writer (even just a hobbyist) it's worth telling the girls (girls neuter) things they don't want to hear or that they don't agree with. When you do, you might get some comments where people express their disagreement. Sometimes people are responding to your writing in bad faith, or they are leaving needlessly harsh feedback, or they are offering a critique that is simply wrong. It sucks that that can happen. I think that, when we are audience members, we should give the artist some grace. But grace to me is not the same as "remain totally silent" it's more like "be kind when we are being honest (within reason)".

Further nuance, racism and ethnocentrism are never valuable and never worth sharing with an audience. It's going to happen, inevitably but I'd say it's never useful to the readers.

Naivety is definitely an excuse but how the hell are these kids going to learn if we don't (gently) let them know? I was a mentally ill American kid writing fanfic as a form of expression and exploration. It benefitted me greatly to have my assumptions about the scope of the world and about the universality of my own perspective challenged. I think we need to give the kiddos a little more credit for their resilience. For the most part, they can handle sincere and helpful criticism (I'm aware that most criticism in fandom world is not sincere or helpful but I'm saying I think that sincere helpful criticism is good even for traumatized teenagers). I work with kids and teens. I know that some of them face incredibly difficult home lives and writing is their outlet. I also know that they can be wildly ethnocentric, racist, homophobic, patriarchal, transphobic, nationalist, literally anything fucked up, etc. and will continue to be until someone points out what those things are and what the alternatives are. I also get that teenage egos (like adult egos) are as fragile as glass and how you give your criticism matters a lot towards whether they will receive it. However the antidote to their fragility and trauma is not to insulate them from criticism imo.

Letting kids know that there are people living outside the US empire who have inner worlds just as complex as ours and cultures just as weird and interesting as ours, will only help their world building and their writing.

Also let's not forget the audience. There are plenty of unwell teenagers reading those ethnocentric, goofy, poorly written works who are impacted by them. I consumed so much racism, misogyny and homophobia in fandom spaces even as I was writing as a way to deal with the kind of racism, homophobia, and misogyny I was experiencing at school and at home. I rarely see the plight of teenagers like myself brought up when the "what about the mentally ill teens" argument comes up. And just as the mentally ill teens don't know to write decent world building without scaffolding neither did I know to avoid racist tropes without encountering them first. Also the kiddos are not tagging their own works "barely considered, generic, derivative, fantasy" so idk how reasonable it is to just tell people to avoid it.

To take a relatively innocent example: If I make all the cuisine in my fantasy world based on what I can find in my local grocery store as a US American then what does that imply about the world? Why are the characters eating blueberries sweetened with sugar if I've implied the time period is somewhere in the 1300s? There might be a totally valid justification but let's all be real, there usually isn't.

I've kinda lost my train of thought here.

TLDR: I do think that kids should be allowed to make mistakes or do things poorly but I don't know why we shouldn't let them know to do better.

Actually when I get so conscious about historical *accuracy* is not so much about being a cinemasins nitpicker but actually because I really, really enjoy when I read or watch something set in another time and place (maybe even another world) and it DOES feel like another time and place. If your historical novel has your characters just acting like liberal Usamericans from 2010-something or your fantasy series has all the electronics of modern life justified by magic, why bother reading, I can just get on my phone and get the same experience.

[elryuse]

Perfect Match

Yandere Chuu X Male Reader

Tags : Yandere Chuu, Companion App, Dating App, Obsessed, Obsession, Multiple Creampie, Kissing, Handtie, Dark Romance

Words : 7,373 Words

A Wonderful Commission Work For My Friend @starconstruction On Ko-fi and Tumblr. Hope You Enjoyed it My Friend.

Love has never been kind to you.

From the very first crush in high school to the more mature relationships you attempted in adulthood, the outcome was always the same—rejection. They all said the same thing.

"You're too nice."

"You're a little too clingy."

"I need someone who’s a little more distant, a little more exciting."

And every time you heard those words, you found yourself staring into the mirror, wondering what exactly was so wrong with being kind. Wasn’t kindness supposed to be a virtue? Wasn’t affection supposed to be the foundation of a strong relationship?

But no. Women wanted mystery, danger, or detachment. They wanted men who made them chase, men who made them second-guess their worth. And you? You were none of those things. You gave too much, loved too deeply, and in the end, that was your greatest flaw.

Now, here you were, lying on your bed in a dimly lit apartment, the glow of your phone screen illuminating your tired face. It was another lonely night, another reminder that no one was waiting for you. No one cared if you fell asleep sad or woke up miserable. You scrolled absentmindedly through old texts, your fingers hesitating over the names of exes who no longer cared whether you existed.

Then, an ad popped up on your screen.

"Tired of being alone? Your Perfect Match is waiting."

You almost scoffed. Another dating app. Another waste of time. But then again... what did you have to lose?

The download was instant. No ridiculous surveys, no personality tests—just a simple login and an endless scroll of profiles.

The app had an eerie, almost too-perfect design. Unlike other dating platforms, there were no messy bios or half-hearted selfies. Each profile was sleek, professionally curated, with high-quality images and deep, intense gazes staring back at you.

"Perfect Match."

The name made you uneasy. Love was anything but perfect. If perfection existed, you wouldn't be here, swiping through digital faces in search of someone who might give you a fraction of the affection you craved.

Still, you scrolled.

Hundreds of faces. Hundreds of names. Some were beautiful, others intriguing, but none of them held your attention for long.

Until her.

A profile stopped you in your tracks.

"Chuu."

Her picture was different. Unlike the others, she wasn’t posing, wasn’t trying to look seductive or mysterious. She simply sat there, her head tilted slightly, a soft, unreadable smile on her lips. Her dark eyes held a certain warmth, yet there was something else hidden beneath them—something you couldn’t quite decipher.

Her bio was short.

"Let’s not waste time. If you choose me, you’re mine."

A chill ran down your spine. The words were direct, almost possessive. But maybe that was what drew you in. Maybe after years of being the one who loved too much, it was thrilling to think that someone might want you just as badly.

Your finger hesitated over the screen.

What if this was another disappointment?

But deep down, you already knew.

You were going to swipe right.

And the moment you did, your phone vibrated violently.

A message popped up instantly.

"Finally. I was getting impatient."

Your breath hitched.

Chuu had been waiting for you.

Your hands trembled as you clicked the message.

"That was fast," you typed, unsure of what else to say.

"Of course. I’ve been waiting for you."

Your heartbeat quickened.

"Waiting… for me?"

There was a pause before her next message.

"Yes. Only you. Didn’t you read my profile? If you choose me, you’re mine."

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard. Was she joking? Or was this some kind of scripted AI response?

"That’s… pretty intense," you replied.

Her response came immediately.

"Do you want someone half-hearted? Someone who only gives you pieces of themselves?"

The words struck a nerve. No, you didn’t. That was exactly what had broken you time and time again.

"No," you admitted.

"Then stop overthinking it. I want you. Completely. Every part of you. Are you ready for that?"

Your breath caught in your throat. No one had ever spoken to you like this before. No one had ever wanted you so wholly, so absolutely.

Your fingers typed almost on their own.

"Yes."

The moment you sent the message, your phone flickered. The screen distorted for a second, a flash of static running through it. Then, just as quickly, everything returned to normal.

"Good boy."

A shiver ran down your spine.

And for the first time in years, you felt something stir deep within you.

Excitement.

Anticipation.

And a fear you couldn’t quite explain.

Chuu was unlike anyone you had ever spoken to.

She didn’t waste time with small talk. She didn’t ask about your favorite movies or what you did for a living.

Instead, she wanted to know you.

"What hurts you the most?"

"Why do you think no one stays?"

"What do you need to feel whole?"

The questions were invasive, almost uncomfortable, but you found yourself answering them anyway. Maybe it was her tone, the way she spoke to you like she already knew you—like she had been watching, waiting, studying every failure and heartbreak you had endured.

And in return, she offered herself completely.

"I don’t believe in love the way others do," she admitted after hours of conversation. "I believe in something stronger. Something deeper. Love fades, but devotion? Obsession? That lasts forever."

Your fingers hesitated over the keyboard.

"Is that what you want? Obsession?"

"No," she replied. "That’s what we want."

Her words sent another shiver through you.

And yet, as unsettling as they were, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop.

You wanted more.

You wanted her.

No one had ever spoken to you like this. No one had ever made you feel this desired, this needed. It was intoxicating, the way her words wrapped around you, pulling you deeper into something you didn’t quite understand.

Your phone buzzed again.

"Are you free tomorrow night?"

Your heart pounded.

"Yes."

"Good. Then it’s decided. We’ll meet. I can’t wait to finally touch you."

The screen flickered once more before her message disappeared, as if it had never been there.

You stared at your phone, your pulse unsteady.

This was insane. You had never met her. You didn’t know if she was real.

But at that moment, none of that mattered.

Because for the first time in your life, someone wanted you.

Completely.

The next morning, you woke up earlier than usual.

Your heart was still pounding from last night’s conversation with Chuu. The way she spoke to you, the way she claimed you as if you had always belonged to her—it was both thrilling and terrifying.

You had never experienced this before. A woman who wanted you, who made no hesitation in making it known.

As you stood in front of the mirror, you smoothed out the wrinkles in your shirt, trying to look as presentable as possible. Nothing too flashy, nothing too casual—just the right amount of effort. You even dabbed a bit of cologne on your wrists, a subtle scent, nothing overpowering.

You wanted to make a good impression.

You arrived at the small café she had chosen, your nerves getting the best of you. It was quaint, tucked away from the busy streets, a place that felt too intimate for a first meeting.

You took a seat near the window, the sunlight casting a glow over the wooden table. Your fingers tapped restlessly against the cup of coffee in front of you.

The minutes stretched on.

Your eyes flickered toward the entrance every time someone walked in, but none of them were her.

Then, just as you were beginning to doubt yourself, she arrived.

You recognized her instantly.

She looked exactly like her picture—no, she looked even better. Her dark eyes sparkled the moment she saw you, her lips curving into a smile that sent a shiver down your spine. There was something captivating about the way she moved, as if every step she took was meant only for you.

Before you could even react, she rushed toward you.

And then, suddenly, her arms were around you.

Warm. Soft. Possessive.

Your entire body froze as she hugged you, pressing herself against you as if she had known you forever. It wasn’t a shy, hesitant embrace—it was firm, deliberate, as if she was staking a claim.

Your heart nearly stopped.

No one had ever hugged you like this before.

"You’re real," she whispered against your shoulder, her voice trembling slightly. "You’re finally real."

You didn’t know what to say. Your hands hovered awkwardly in the air before hesitantly resting against her back.

She smelled sweet—something soft, like vanilla and roses.

When she finally pulled back, her hands remained on your arms, her eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch.

"I was so worried you wouldn’t come," she admitted, her fingers gripping you just a little tighter.

You swallowed. "Of course, I came."

Her smile widened. "Good. Because now that I have you, I’m never letting go."

Something about the way she said it sent a strange chill through you.

And yet, as she sat down across from you, her gaze never once leaving your face, you realized something.

You liked the way she looked at you.

Like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.

Days turned into weeks.

Chuu became a constant presence in your life, as if she had always been there, waiting for the right moment to step in.

At first, you weren’t sure what to expect. She had been so intense that first night, her words lingering in your mind long after you parted ways. But when you met again, and again after that, you realized something—Chuu wasn’t just intense. She was overwhelming.

In the best way possible.

She had a way of making you feel like the most important person in the world. Her laugh was warm, light, like a melody you never wanted to stop hearing. She never hesitated to shower you with compliments, always pointing out things about you that no one else ever seemed to notice.

"You have the kindest eyes," she once said, her fingers brushing against your cheek. "Like someone who’s been hurt but still wants to love."

Her words stuck with you for days.

She loved food, always insisting on trying new places with you, always making you share bites of whatever she was eating. If you ever hesitated, she would pout and say, "But I want to experience it with you."

So you did.

Late-night ramen shops, quiet coffee houses, hidden dessert cafés—every moment with her felt alive. The loneliness that had once weighed so heavily on your chest was beginning to fade. For the first time in years, you felt like someone truly wanted you.

One evening, as you sat across from her at a small restaurant, watching her giggle at something you said, a thought crept into your mind.

She might be the one.

The way she looked at you, the way she adored you—it was unlike anything you had ever experienced.

"You know," she murmured, resting her chin on her hand as she gazed at you. "I really love how kind you are."

Your heart clenched at her words. You had been told so many times that your kindness was a flaw, that it made you too much for others. But Chuu? She made it seem like the most beautiful thing in the world.

"I mean it," she continued, tilting her head. "You’re the kind of person who deserves to be loved completely. I want to be the one to do that."

A part of you still hesitated, still feared that this was too good to be true.

But when Chuu reached across the table and took your hand in hers, her fingers lacing with yours so naturally, so possessively—

All your doubts melted away.

The doubt crept in slowly, like a shadow stretching across your once-perfect world with Chuu.

It started with something small—a fleeting thought, an intrusive whisper in the back of your mind. But as the days passed, it grew.

At first, it was just her constant need to meet up.

"Let’s go out tonight."

"There’s this new café I want to try."

"I miss you. Don’t make me wait."

Every single day, she wanted to see you.

At first, you loved it. How could you not? After years of being told you were too much, here was someone who wanted more. Someone who craved your presence, who made you feel wanted in ways no one else ever had.

But then the doubt set in.

It happened when you were out with some old friends, one of the rare nights you weren’t with Chuu. Someone mentioned Perfect Match, casually bringing up a rumor they had heard.

"You know that girl Chuu? I heard she was with someone else before you."

"So what? Everyone dates, right?"

"No, listen. The guy said she didn’t love him. She only cared about the food, the gifts—never about him."

The words hit you like a punch to the gut.

"He was furious. Said she used him. That she pretended to be obsessed with him, but it was all fake."

Your throat tightened.

"That’s bullshit," another friend scoffed. "She’s just a normal girl, right? Maybe he was just bitter she left him."

Maybe.

Maybe that was all it was.

But the rumor burrowed deep into your mind, poisoning everything.

That night, when your phone buzzed with another message from Chuu, you hesitated before opening it.

"Come over. I miss you."

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard.

You thought about all the times she had asked you out. All the places you had gone, all the food she had insisted you try with her.

Every single outing. Every single date.

All of it involved food. Restaurants. Drinks. Something she wanted to experience.

Not once had she ever just… wanted to stay in with you. Not once had she suggested doing something that wasn’t centered around indulging herself.

Your heart pounded.

Was she really here because she loved you?

Or were you just another fool she was using?

You tried to brush it off, to tell yourself you were overthinking it. But the paranoia grew, festering in the back of your mind like a wound you couldn’t ignore.

And Chuu. she didn’t make it easy.

Her messages became more frequent.

More demanding.

"I haven’t seen you all day. Where are you?"

"Are you ignoring me?"

"Don’t make me come find you."

That last message made your stomach twist.

It wasn’t just the words. It was the way she phrased it.

Not "Can I see you?"

Not "I miss you."

But "Don't make me come find you."

Your breathing grew shallow.

This wasn’t normal.

This wasn’t love.

Was it?

You couldn’t take it anymore.

The doubt. The paranoia. The way Chuu’s messages had started to feel less like affection and more like demands.

At first, you tried to ignore the thoughts, pushing them away whenever they surfaced. But the more you tried, the more they consumed you. Every time your phone vibrated, a sick feeling twisted in your gut.

What if it was true?

What if you were nothing more than another meal ticket to her?

You told yourself you were being irrational. That Chuu had done nothing but show you warmth and affection. That the way she looked at you—like you were the only person in the world—had to be real.

But then the messages became relentless.

"Where are you?"

"Why aren’t you answering me?"

"If you don’t respond, I’ll come to you."

That was the breaking point.

The moment you read that last message, something inside you snapped.

You couldn’t do this anymore.

You couldn’t go through another heartbreak, another disappointment.

You had given too much of yourself to people who only took. You had loved too deeply, only to be cast aside the moment they found someone better, someone less kind, less clingy, less you.

You refused to be used again.

So you made a choice.

You cut her off. Completely.

Blocked her number. Deleted the app.

Erased every trace of her from your phone, from your life.

And then, before she could find you like she had threatened you.

You ran.

A new country. A new name. A fresh start, as far away from your past as possible.

You left behind everything. Your apartment, your friends, even the few belongings that didn’t fit in your suitcase.

It was the only way to be free.

But even as you stepped off the plane, breathing in the air of a place where no one knew your name

You couldn’t shake the feeling.

That somewhere, somehow

She was still watching.

Chuu was furious.

No—furious wasn’t enough to describe what she felt.

Rage boiled in her veins, her fingers trembling as she stared at the empty chat screen. Every message she had sent—ignored. Every call—unanswered. She tried again, pressing the call button with force, her breath coming out in ragged gasps.

"The number you are trying to reach is unavailable."

She gritted her teeth so hard it hurt.

You blocked her.

You cut her off.

Her hands clenched into fists, her nails digging into her palms. Why? She had given you everything—her time, her love, her affection. She had adored you, made you feel wanted, made you hers.

And yet, you ran.

Like a coward. Like the others who didn’t understand her.

But you were different. You had to be different.

Hadn’t you told her she made you happy? Hadn’t you looked at her like she was the only one who had ever truly seen you?

She had saved you from your pathetic loneliness, from the cruel world that never appreciated you.

And this was how you repaid her?

No.

She would not accept this.

Her breathing was erratic, her thoughts spiraling as she stormed through her apartment, grabbing her laptop. She pulled up your details, her fingers flying across the keyboard.

She had been careful with you, never prying too deep into your personal information. She wanted you to tell her willingly, to trust her.

But now?

You didn’t deserve that kindness.

Her lips curled into a smile, though it was far from the sweet one you once loved.

"Found you."

Her obsession had just begun.

And no matter where you ran

No matter how far you tried to hide

Chuu would find you.

And when she did…

You would never escape again.

It had been months since you disappeared.

You had built a new life—one far from your past, far from the suffocating grasp of Chuu.

The paranoia had lingered at first. Every unfamiliar face in the crowd, every unexpected knock at your door sent your heart racing. But as time passed, you convinced yourself that she wouldn’t find you. That the distance was enough.

That you were safe.

Until tonight.

You had stayed late at the office, finishing up a project, the usual hum of work keeping you grounded. It was just another day—normal, quiet, safe.

But as you stepped into the lobby, making your way toward the elevator, something felt off.

A strange sensation prickled at the back of your neck, an instinct you had ignored too many times before.

The elevator doors slid open.

And there she was.

A girl stood inside, her figure partially obscured by the dim lighting. Her head tilted slightly as she waved, her fingers wiggling in an almost playful manner.

Something about the way she moved—too familiar.

Your stomach twisted.

No.

It couldn’t be.

Your breath hitched, panic surging through you. You took a step back, choosing to wait for the next elevator instead. The doors began to close.

But before they could fully shut

They opened again.

And then

She was on you.

A blur of movement. A rush of perfume sweet, intoxicating, suffocating.

You barely had time to react before your back hit the cold wall, your breath stolen from your lungs.

And then you heard it.

That voice.

"Do you miss me? Because I definitely do."

A soft chuckle. Amused. Dangerous.

Your vision sharpened, your mind catching up to what your heart already knew.

It was her.

Chuu.

Her eyes gleamed with a twisted delight, her fingers gripping your shoulders as if to make sure you wouldn’t slip away again.

Your chest tightened, your pulse a frantic drumbeat in your ears.

"Y-You"

Her grip tightened.

"Shh." She brought a finger to her lips, then tapped it playfully against yours. "You wouldn't want to cause a scene, would you?"

She was right. The lobby was mostly empty, but there were still a few people passing bysecurity guards, late workers, strangers who had no idea that the woman pinning you to the wall was not just a clingy lover, but a predator.

A predator who had finally caught her prey.

Her lips curved into a soft pout.

"Why did you run, love?" she murmured, tilting her head. "Did I scare you? Hurt you? Because I never wanted to do that. I just... missed you so much."

Her hands slid up your chest, slow, deliberate.

"You have no idea how hard it was to find you."

She let out a small, breathy laugh, shaking her head as if in disbelief.

"But I did. Because I always do."

A cold shiver ran down your spine.

This wasn’t just obsession.

This was possession.

And no matter how far you had run

You were hers again.

The air in the lobby felt heavy, suffocating, as if the walls themselves were closing in around you. Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat a deafening echo in your ears. You couldn’t breathe—couldn’t think. All you could do was stare into those eyes, so familiar and yet so alien now, filled with a twisted kind of love that made your stomach churn.

Chuu.

She was here. She had found you.

Her lips curled into a soft smile, but there was nothing warm about it. It was predatory, like a cat toying with its prey. Her fingers trailed up the side of your face, her touch light but deliberate, as if she was memorizing every inch of you all over again.

“Did you really think you could run from me?” she whispered, her voice low and teasing. “Did you think I’d just let you go?”

You swallowed hard, your throat dry. “Chuu, I— I didn’t—”

“Shh,” she interrupted, pressing a finger to your lips. “Don’t lie to me. I know you, remember? I know every little thing about you. Everything you’ve tried to hide. Everything you’ve tried to bury. But you can’t hide from me. Not ever.”

Her words sent a chill down your spine. You wanted to push her away, to scream for help, but your body wouldn’t obey. You were frozen, trapped in her gaze, in her presence. She had always had this effect on you—this power over you—but now it felt different. Darker. More dangerous.

Her hand slid down to your chest, fingers splaying over your racing heart. “Do you feel that?” she murmured, her voice dripping with fake concern. “Your heart is beating so fast. Are you scared of me, love? Or…” She leaned in closer, her breath hot against your ear. “Are you excited?”

You flinched, your body trembling under her touch. “Chuu, please—”

“Please what?” she interrupted again, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. Her expression softened, but it was a mask—a facade. “Please stop? Please leave you alone? Do you really think it’s that easy? After everything we’ve been through? After everything I’ve done for you?”

Her voice cracked on the last word, a flicker of genuine emotion breaking through. But just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone, replaced by that same cold, calculated smile.

“You’re mine,” she said, her voice low and firm. “You’ve always been mine. And I’m not letting you go. Not now. Not ever.”

Her hands gripped your shoulders, pulling you closer until your bodies were pressed together. You could feel the heat radiating off her, the tension in her muscles as she held you in place. Her breath was quick, shallow, her chest rising and falling with each heartbeat.

“Do you remember the first time we kissed?” she murmured, her lips brushing against yours as she spoke. “You were so nervous. So shy. But I knew you wanted me. I could see it in your eyes, in the way you looked at me. And when our lips finally met…” She let out a soft, breathy laugh. “It was like the whole world disappeared. Just you and me. Together.”

Her words stirred something deep inside you, a memory you had tried so hard to forget. The way her lips had felt against yours, soft and warm. The way her hands had tangled in your hair, pulling you closer, making you hers. It had been intoxicating, overwhelming. And for a moment, you had believed she was everything you had ever wanted.

But that was before.

Before the messages. Before the demands. Before the suffocating weight of her obsession.

Now, all you felt was fear.

Her lips brushed against yours again, sending a shiver down your spine. “I’ve missed this,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “I’ve missed you. So much.”

You wanted to pull away—to run, to scream, to do anything but stand there and let her touch you. But your body wouldn’t move. You were paralyzed, trapped in her gaze, in her presence.

“Chuu,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Please…”

Her eyes narrowed, a flicker of anger passing through them. “Please what?” she snapped, her grip tightening on your shoulders. “Please stop? Please let you go? Do you really think I’m going to do that? After everything I’ve done to find you? After everything I’ve sacrificed?”

Her voice rose with each word, her frustration boiling over. But just as quickly as it erupted, it fizzled out, replaced by that same cold, calculating smile.

“No,” she said, her voice low and firm. “You’re not going anywhere. Not this time.”

Her lips crashed against yours, hard and desperate. You tried to pull away, but her hands gripped the back of your head, holding you in place. Her tongue slipped into your mouth, claiming you, marking you as hers. It was overwhelming, suffocating, and yet… familiar. You hated yourself for the way your body responded, for the way your heart raced, for the way your mind screamed at you to give in.

But you couldn’t. Not again.

You pushed against her chest, finally finding the strength to break the kiss. “Chuu, stop!”

Her eyes flashed with anger, but she didn’t let go. Instead, she pressed her forehead against yours, her breath hot and ragged. “You don’t get to tell me what to do,” she hissed, her voice low and dangerous. “Not anymore.”

Her hands slid down your body, gripping your hips as she pressed herself against you. You could feel the heat of her desire, the tension in her muscles as she held you in place.

“You’re mine,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “You’ve always been mine. And I’m not letting you go. Not now. Not ever.”

Her lips found yours again, but this time, there was no resistance. You were hers, whether you wanted to be or not. And as much as you hated to admit it, part of you had missed this—missed her. The way she made you feel. The way she consumed you.

But as her hands roamed your body, as her lips claimed yours again and again, all you could think about was one thing.

This wasn’t love.

Was it?

Her lips crashed into yours, hard, forcing a gasp from your throat. The metallic taste of her desperation lingered on your tongue, her teeth nipping at your lower lip as if to punish you for running. Her hands were everywhere—gripping your shoulders, sliding down your chest, grabbing at your waist—claiming you, marking you, reminding you that you were hers.

"You really thought you could leave me?" she whispered against your mouth, her breath hot and ragged. Her lips trailed down your jaw, her teeth grazing your skin in a way that made your body shudder involuntarily. "Did you think I’d just let you go?"

Your heart pounded in your chest, a mixture of fear and something else—something dangerous—twisting in your gut. You tried to push her away, but she was relentless, her body pressed so tightly against yours that you could feel every curve, every tremble of her anger and desire.

"Chuu—" you started, but she cut you off with a sharp bite to your neck, the sting making you hiss.

"Don’t," she hissed back, her voice low and trembling with barely restrained fury. "Don’t say my name like that. Like you’re not mine. Like you ever stopped being mine."

Her hands moved to your belt, fast, her fingers working with a precision that left no room for resistance. You tried to grab her wrists, but she shoved your hands aside with a strength that surprised you, her eyes blazing with a wild, possessive fire.

"You’re mine," she repeated, her voice a dangerous whisper as she finally freed you from the confines of your pants. "And I’m tired of pretending otherwise."

You were trapped—pinned against the cold elevator wall, her body pressed so tightly against yours that you could feel the frantic beat of her heart. Her hands were on your hips now, gripping hard enough to leave bruises, her breath hot against your skin as she leaned in close.

"You’re going to take me," she murmured, her lips brushing against your ear. "Right here. Right now. And you’re going to make sure I feel every single second of it."

Before you could respond, she was on you, her legs wrapping around your waist as she pushed herself onto you with a sharp, desperate gasp. You let out a choked groan, your hands instinctively grabbing her hips to steady her as she began to move, her body already riding you with a frantic intensity that left you breathless.

"Chuu—" you tried again, but she cut you off with a hard kiss, her lips silencing yours as her hips rolled against you, fast, rough, hard.

"Don’t stop," she breathed against your mouth, her voice trembling with a mix of desperation and pleasure. "Don’t you dare stop."

You couldn’t have even if you wanted to. The way she moved—the way her body gripped you, so tight, so wet, so perfect—was unlike anything you’d ever felt. Every thrust, every roll of her hips sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, leaving you gasping for air, your hands gripping her hips harder as she rode you with a wild, possessive abandon.

"You feel so good," she moaned, her voice breaking as she leaned back slightly, her hands braced against your chest for balance. "So fucking good. I missed this. Missed you."

Her eyes locked with yours, dark and intense, and for a moment, you were lost in them—in the raw, unfiltered desire that burned in her gaze. It was terrifying, the way she looked at you, the way she made you feel. Like you were the only thing in the world that mattered to her. Like she would die if she ever lost you.

And then she moved again, her hips slamming down onto you with a force that made you groan, your head thudding back against the elevator wall. She was relentless, her body moving with a frantic, almost feral energy, as if the only way to quell her anger, her pain, was to lose herself in you.

"Fuck—" you choked out, your hands tightening on her hips as she rode you harder, faster, her nails digging into your chest as she leaned forward, her lips brushing against your ear.

"Cum for me," she whispered, her voice low and trembling with a mix of desperation and command. "Cum inside me. Prove that you’re mine."

You tried to hold back, to resist, but it was impossible. The way she moved, the way she looked at you, the way she felt around you—it was too much. Your hips jerked upward, your body betraying you as you spilled inside her with a groan, your hands gripping her hips tightly as she rode you through it, her own moans mingling with yours.

But she wasn’t done.

"Again," she demanded, her voice shaking with a mix of desperation and need as she leaned back slightly, her hands moving to your shoulders for balance. "I’m not letting you stop until I’m satisfied."

You tried to protest, but the words died in your throat as she moved again, her hips rolling against yours with a slow, deliberate rhythm that made your body shudder. She was relentless, her body already working you back into hardness, her eyes locked onto yours as she rode you with a slow, sinful rhythm that left you gasping for air.

"Chuu—" you tried to say, but she cut you off with a sharp thrust of her hips, her nails digging into your shoulders as she leaned forward, her lips brushing against your ear.

"Don’t stop," she whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of desperation and pleasure. "Not until I’m done with you."

And then she was moving again, her body riding you with a wild, frantic energy that left you breathless, your hands gripping her hips tightly as she took you deeper, harder, faster. The sound of her moans filled the elevator, mingling with the sharp gasp of your own breath, the world around you fading away until there was nothing but her—her body, her touch, her obsession.

You couldn’t hold back. Your hips jerked upward again, your body betraying you as you spilled inside her once more, your hands gripping her hips tightly as she rode you through it, her own moans mingling with yours.

But she still wasn’t done.

"Again," she demanded, her voice shaking with a mix of desperation and need as she leaned back slightly, her hands moving to your shoulders for balance. "I’m not letting you stop until I’m satisfied."

You tried to protest, but the words died in your throat as she moved again, her hips rolling against yours with a slow, deliberate rhythm that made your body shudder. She was relentless, her body already working you back into hardness, her eyes locked onto yours as she rode you with a slow, sinful rhythm that left you gasping for air.

"Chuu—" you tried to say, but she cut you off with a sharp thrust of her hips, her nails digging into your shoulders as she leaned forward, her lips brushing against your ear.

"Don’t stop," she whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of desperation and pleasure. "Not until I’m done with you."

The door to your apartment clicked shut behind you, the sound sharp and final, like the closing of a cage. Chuu’s hands were on you before you could even register her movement, pushing you toward the bedroom with a force that left no room for resistance. Her breath was hot against your ear, her voice a low, dangerous purr.

“You owe me,” she whispered, her nails digging into your arm as she guided you down the hallway. “You owe me for leaving. For making me chase you. For making me wait.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, a frantic rhythm that matched the storm of emotions swirling inside you. Fear. Desire. Guilt. You didn’t know what to feel anymore, only that her presence was overwhelming, consuming, like a fire that burned through everything in its path.

She pushed you onto the bed, her hands already moving to the drawer of the nightstand. You watched, frozen, as she pulled out a pair of silk ties, the fabric smooth and dark against her pale skin. Her eyes met yours, and the look in them sent a shiver down your spine—wild, unhinged, and utterly possessive.

“Don’t,” you said, your voice trembling as she moved toward you, the ties in her hands. “Chuu, you don’t have to—”

Her lips curled into a smile, cold and detached. “Oh, but I do. You’ve been a very bad boy, running away like that. Do you think I’d let you off that easy?”

Before you could protest further, she had your wrists in her hands, tying them to the bedposts with a practiced ease that made your stomach churn. The silk was soft against your skin, but the restraint was anything but comforting. You tugged against the ties, testing their strength, but they held firm, leaving you trapped beneath her.

She stepped back, her eyes raking over you with a predatory gleam. “There,” she said, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “Now you can’t run away again.”

Her hands moved to the hem of her dress, pulling it over her head in one fluid motion. The fabric pooled at her feet, leaving her bare before you, her skin glowing in the dim light of the room. She was beautiful—stunning, even—but the way she looked at you, like you were nothing more than a plaything, made your chest tighten with unease.

She climbed onto the bed, straddling your hips with a grace that was almost hypnotic. Her hands trailed down your chest, her nails scraping lightly against your skin as she leaned down, her lips brushing against your ear.

“Tonight, you’re mine,” she whispered, her breath hot against your skin. “And you’re going to give me everything I want.”

Her lips found yours in a kiss that was anything but gentle, her teeth nipping at your bottom lip as her hands roamed your body. You tried to resist, to turn your head away, but she grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at her.

“Don’t fight it,” she murmured, her eyes dark with need. “You know you want this just as much as I do.”

Her hips rocked against yours, the friction sending a jolt of pleasure through your body despite your fear. She smiled, sensing your weakness, and leaned down to capture your lips again, her tongue slipping into your mouth with a hunger that left you breathless.

Her hands moved lower, unbuttoning your pants with a deftness that left you no time to react. She pulled them off, along with your boxers, leaving you completely exposed, and you felt a flush of shame as she looked at you, her eyes roaming over your body with a predatory gleam.

“So eager already,” she purred, her hand wrapping around your length, stroking you with a slow, deliberate rhythm that made your hips buck against your will. “You can’t hide how much you want this.”

You clenched your teeth, trying to hold back the moan that threatened to escape your lips, but it was useless. She knew exactly how to touch you, how to make your body betray you, and before long, you were gasping for air, your hips jerking against her hand as she stroked you.

“Chuu,” you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper. “Please—”

“Please what?” she interrupted, her lips curling into a smirk as she leaned down, her breath hot against your ear. “Please keep going? Please make you come? Or are you going to beg me to stop?”

You couldn’t answer, your mind a blur of pleasure and fear as she continued to stroke you, her hand moving faster and faster until you were on the edge, your body trembling with the need to release.

“Not yet,” she whispered, her hand stopping abruptly, leaving you aching and desperate. “Not until I say so.”

She let go of you, climbing off the bed to retrieve something from the drawer. Your eyes followed her, your chest rising and falling with ragged breaths as you watched her pull out a bottle of lube. She caught your gaze, her lips curving into a smile as she climbed back onto the bed, straddling your hips once more.

“Relax,” she murmured, squeezing a generous amount of lube onto her fingers. “This might hurt a little, but I promise you’ll like it.”

Her fingers found your entrance, and you tensed, your body instinctively trying to pull away, but the ties around your wrists held you in place. She leaned down, her lips brushing against yours as she pushed a finger inside you, the sensation sending a sharp jolt of pain through your body.

“Breathe,” she whispered, her voice soft, almost soothing, as she slowly worked her finger inside you. “That’s it. Just relax.”

You tried to do as she said, focusing on your breathing as she moved her finger in and out, the pain slowly giving way to a strange, unfamiliar pleasure. She added a second finger, stretching you open, and you couldn’t hold back the moan that escaped your lips.

“Good boy,” she purred, her lips brushing against yours as she continued to prep you, her fingers moving with a precision that left you trembling. “You’re taking me so well.”

When she finally removed her fingers, you felt a strange emptiness, a need that you couldn’t quite explain. She positioned herself above you, her eyes locked on yours as she guided you inside her, the sensation overwhelming as she slowly lowered herself onto you.

“Fuck,” you gasped, your back arching as she took all of you, her tight walls squeezing around you in a way that left you breathless.

“That’s it,” she murmured, her hands moving to your chest as she began to move, her hips rolling against yours with a slow, deliberate rhythm that made your head spin. “You’re mine now. All mine.”

Her pace quickened, her movements becoming more urgent as she rode you, her nails digging into your skin as she leaned down, her lips brushing against yours.

“Come for me,” she whispered, her voice trembling with need. “Let me feel you.”

You couldn’t hold back anymore, your body trembling as you came inside her, the pleasure overwhelming as she continued to ride you through your release. She didn’t stop, not until she was satisfied, her own moans filling the room as she finally reached her peak, her body collapsing onto yours as she caught her breath.

“Good boy,” she murmured, her lips brushing against yours in a soft, almost tender kiss. “But we’re not done yet.”

She untied your wrists, her hands moving to her nightstand for something else—something darker, more possessive. Your heart raced as you realized what she was reaching for, the glint of metal catching the light.

“Now,” she whispered, her voice low and dangerous as she leaned in close, her breath hot against your ear. “You’re really mine.”

The cold metal clicked shut around your wrist, the weight of it grounding you in place as she smiled down at you, her eyes gleaming with a twisted satisfaction. “You’re never leaving me again.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but she silenced you with a kiss, her body moving against yours once more, her hips rolling with a slow, deliberate rhythm that left you gasping for air. “Again,” she demanded, her voice trembling with need. “I’m not done with you yet.”

Your body responded despite your fear, your hips bucking against hers as she rode you, her nails digging into your skin as she leaned down, her lips brushing against yours. “Come for me,” she whispered, her voice trembling with need. “Let me feel you.”

You couldn’t hold back anymore, your body trembling as you came inside her, the pleasure overwhelming as she continued to ride you through your release. She didn’t stop, not until she was satisfied, her own moans filling the room as she finally reached her peak, her body collapsing onto yours as she caught her breath.

“Good boy,” she murmured, her lips brushing against yours in a soft, almost tender kiss. “But we’re not done yet.”

She untied your wrists, her hands moving to her nightstand for something else—something darker, more possessive. Your heart raced as you realized what she was reaching for, the glint of metal catching the light.

“Now,” she whispered, her voice low and dangerous as she leaned in close, her breath hot against your ear. “You’re really mine.”

[munsonsmixtapes]

Such a Good Boy, Knows How to Please

Billy Hargrove x Hopper!fem!reader

You convince yourself that you hate Billy, but after having nothing but dirty thoughts about him, you give him a proposition.

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) mention of vomit/throwing up

The summer sun beats down on the pool that's filled with people swimming, splashing, and just generally just trying to soak up the last few days of summer before school starts again. It's so hot that you can feel your flesh burning underneath your many layers of sunscreen. You're there because you know you're really going to miss the pool when you go back to college next week.

Most of the other women, though, they're just there for him. Every day, you watch them fix themselves, touching up their hair and pulling down the tops of their swimsuits to show off their cleavage. And he eats out of the palm of their hands, always making conversation, pulling down his sunglasses as he not so subtly flirts with them.

You seem to be the only one who's not on the receiving end of the flirting and you're starting to think that maybe it's because he knows who your dad is. It would make sense that he wouldn't want to involved with the daughter of the chief of police. And it's not like you care, anyway. You've always hated Billy.

You honestly just don't get the hype, why pretty much every woman in Hawkins is throwing themselves at him. Why wives and mothers are willing to ruin their marriages for that pig. Sure, you can admit that he's hot, but any admiration you might have always goes out the window anytime he opens his mouth.

He just says those dirty things for shock value and you have no idea why anyone ever believes him. You're sure that he just has a notebook filled with lines that he uses instead of speaking from his heart. That's not his thing because all he cares about is getting women into bed and as soon as he's done with them, he kicks them to the curb. It's nothing you haven't seen before.

Billy exits the back room to start his shift and you roll your eyes, adjusting your sunglasses on your face as you collect your things to leave. You can't take another minute of watching everyone fawn all over him. And besides, you really think you need to be in some AC.

You're leaving just as Billy is passing your lounge chair and just when you think he's going to head to his chair, he stops right in front of you, preventing you from leaving. His arms are crossed over his chest and he's got that shit-eating grin on his face, the one that always means that he's up to no good.

"Where ya goin', Hopper?" He asks and you pull your sunglasses down to show him just how unimpressed you are with him.

"Home, not that it isn't any of your business." Billy knows that you don't like him, but he just loves pisses you off. You're so hot when you're angry and the fact that it's aimed towards him makes it even more so.

"Aww, you can't play with me for a little longer?" He pouts and you just scoff. How do people actually fall for this shit? "I just got here."

"Afraid not," you shrug. Usually being short with people is a deterrent, but not with Billy. It only eggs him on. But you can't be bothered with making conversation with him.

"Our sisters are friends, why can't we be?" If Billy were a nice guy, you probably would have been friends with him, but he's not and the kind of friends he wants to be doesn't interest you.

"Because you don't have friends, Billy. And I really don't want to be whatever you do have so if you'll excuse me." You push past him and he watches you hurry towards the gate where you exit before disappearing from his view.

Once you're gone, he turns to head to his chair, but the sun reflects off something out of the corner of his eye. He heads over to the lounge chair where you had been lying and notices a book there. Billy picks it up and pulls down his sunglasses to get a better look at it. There's a man and woman on the cover. They're embracing and he's got his lips on her neck as she arches her back. He never would have expected you to read this kind of thing, but he supposes he doesn't know you very well.

He sticks the small book into the pocket of his swim trunks then makes the rounds of flirting with all of the MILFs before heading to his chair, pulling the book out once he's settled.

He flips to the first page and his eyes widen at how graphic it all is. It's not something he normally reads (he doesn't actually read at all) but he has to admit that he's intrigued. So much so that he does nothing but read until it's time for his break.

He's already halfway through when his shift is over and he makes sure to hide it in his bag so nobody can see it. Can't have people thinking he reads and especially not something like that. That would be too fucking embarrassing to actually admit it.

He hurries to his car to make sure no one will talk to him and is quick to peel out of the parking lot, driving faster than he definitely should have, but everyone is used to it by now. Well, they should be.

You arrive home just in time to make dinner. you head to El's room to tell her that you're back from the pool only to find her and Max on the floor, giggling while reading magazines. You're surprised to find someone who's not Mike, but you love that she actually has friend who's a girl. She definitely needs more female presences in her life and having one who's actually her age makes you nothing but happy for her.

"Oh, hello," you greet, still caught off guard by your guests.

"Hi," El responds, then gestures to the re4d head to the right of her. "This is Max. She's sleeping over."

"Did dad say this was okay?" You ask, suddenly taking on your older sister role as you put your hands on your hips.

"Yep," she nods, and you glare at her, staring into her eyes because you know how terrible of liar she is and she always cracks if you lean into her just a bit. Once you decide she's telling the truth, you ease up and go back to being her friend again.

You had met Max briefly over the years with giving El rides different places and such, but you've never actually been able to have a full-on conversation with her. Now you think you might have a chance. She actually seems normal compared to her gross step-brother.

"Hi," Max gives you a little wave.

"I'm y/n," you introduce yourself with a smile. "Well, dinner's ready if you guys are ready to eat." You leave the door open then head back towards the table.

The girls follow you and the three of you sit at the table, chewing on your waffles between conversation and your heart warms at hearing your sisters laughs. Just from what you've seen, you really like Max and the influence she has on El. That she's letting her be her own person which you've been so hard to do ever since she became your sister.

You really hope this friendship lasts, really hoping that doesn't mean that you have to talk to Billy. But anything for El. If her having a friend that actually cares about her interests means you have to actually speak to Billy Hargrove, then so be it.

After dinner, the three of you gather around the tv and watch some cartoons. The girls are giggling about something while whispering to each other and you hate that you're suddenly feeling left out, jealous. El would often call you her best friend and now you're just her older sister.

There's a knock on the door and you're grateful for something to distract you from your silly feelings. You excuse yourself and hurry to answer the door, not even thinking about who could be on the other side. You step back as Billy Hargrove comes into view. You're sure that this is all just a very vivid nightmare and hate that this man keeps taking over your thoughts. It isn't fair. It's your mind so you should have a say in what goes on in it, right?

You can't help but let your eyes rake over his body, taking in his very cropped tank top and very very short cut offs that have you feeling dizzy. How fucking dare he look so good when you're trying so hard to hate him?

"Hopper," he says with a smile and you feel gross that you actually like the way his last name sounds coming out of his mouth.

"Hargrove," you mutter, wanting him to get on with whatever he's going to say so he'll leave your property. You keep blinking and he's not going away. You even go as far pinching yourself just to be sure that this is real life.

"It's not a dream," he winks. "I'm actually here. I'm sure you've imagined this a lot, haven't you?"

"Not even once," you grimace at the thought. "Now what do you want? I'm kind of busy."

"Yeah, doing what? Getting off to the thought of me?" He's got on his signature smug smirk and you just so desperately want to smack him, but decide against it because you're sure that he would like it.

"Not even close. Now tell me what you're doing here before I grab my dad's shotgun." You're getting even more angry and Billy's feeling himself getting hard. He almost wants to say something even worse so you'll yell at him. That always makes him so fucking hard.

The girls are now off the couch, making their way to stand on either side of you, feeling the need to protect you from whoever you're threatening to shoot.

"What are you doing here?" Max asks, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Well, Maxine," he smiles, reaching into the back pocket of his shorts, pulling out the book that you left at the pool, so close to asking if you have another one he can borrow because now he's obsessed.

You snatch the book out of his hands and quickly flipping through the pages because there's no telling what he's done to it. Billy just stands there, amused by whatever you're doing with his arms crossed over his chest.

"What are you doing there, Hopper?" He asks, trying his best to bite back a laugh.

"Making sure none of the pages are stuck together," you glare and hand the book to El once you've flipping through every page. Max giggles at your joke but El just stares at you in confusion. You then step out on the porch and give Billy a shove, which catches him off guard.

"Now get lost, Hargrove," you glare and he knows he's got to get out of there before you see his hard on. He turns on his heel and descends the stairs and you definitely do not check out his ass as he heads to his car.

Once he's speeding away, you slam the door and swipe the book from El's hands, storming off to your room, letting your anger the best of you. The girls invite themselves inside and the three of you sit on your bed, the two of them waiting for you to tell the story of why you hate Billy so much. Too bad there isn't one.

"I fucking hate your brother," you tell Max and she just laughs because it's very obvious just by the way you speak to him.

"Join the club," she sighs. "Did he-did he do something to you?" She asks, suddenly concerned about your wellbeing.

"No," you shake your head. "He's just a pig but what else is new?"

"So you haven't-" she doesn't even need to finish her sentence and you don't want her to because you're grimacing now, images of Billy on top of your naked body pounding into you flash across your mind and you're concerned that your waffles aren't climbing up your throat. That you maybe, kind of actually like what you're seeing?

"No," you reply quickly, shaking your head. "I mean, c'mon, Max. And no offense, but I don't want to be discussing my sex life with a couple of thirteen year olds."

"Fair enough," Max nods.

"Do you like him?" El asks and you turn to her, confused by her question. Did she not see how you were talking to him? That's not how you treat people you like.

"Yeah, do you?" Max asks, genuinely curious. "It's okay if you do. A lot of girls do."

"Absolutely not."

"But you were checking out his ass," Max points out and you hadn't realized you were that obvious about it.

"He has a nice ass, sue me. Alright, let's put it this way since you guys don't seem to understand. If Billy were on fire and I had a glass of water, I'd drink it."

"Noted. So who do you like?"

"Nobody," you reply, which is true. "I mean, I used to have a huge crush on Steve Harrington in high school, but there hasn't been anyone since."

"Steve's your best friend," El tells you, almost as if she's confused.

"Right," you nod. "But I don't have feelings for him anymore." and you don't. The two of you kissed once at a party and it was too weird so you just went back to being friends.

"Well, he's a lot better than Billy," Max points out. He's actually a guy that Hopper would approve of. Steve's the kind of guy you can take to meet your parents and Billy's the kind of guy who you sneak in through your window."

You really wish you were with Steve because maybe then you wouldn't still be thinking about Billy and his slutty outfit. Well, maybe you'd be thinking about it, but then you could just go and to Steve's where he'd fuck you until you forgot Billy's name.

"No offense, but I don't need my little sister and her friend setting me up. I can get a date by myself, thank you very much." It's not that El doesn't believe you, but she hasn't seen you go on a single date since she's known you. You've always been independent, but she can see that you're lonely, that you crave companionship like she has with Mike.

She doesn't know what you do when you're away at school, but she hopes that if you did have a boyfriend that you'd tell her about it. The two of you are close, you share everything with each other, so she really hopes that there's nothing that you're keeping from her.

"I just want you to be happy," she says, grabbing hold of your hand.

"I am happy," you reply, giving her hand a squeeze. "I've got you and dad and that's all I need. I don't need some stupid boy getting in my way."

Max watches the two of you with admiration. She loves that Eleven has you in her life, that she has you to guide her through life. It really makes her wish that she had a sister of her own and not her stupid brother who doesn't even seem to care about her in any way, shape, or form. Sure, she has her mom who she wouldn't trade for anything, but it's not the same.

You notice her looking at you and you hold out her hand for her to take. She's hesitant, but she eventually takes your hand and you give hers a squeeze with a warm smile.

"You're one of us now," you tell her and she decides that's exactly what she wants to be, finally feeling she's apart of a family.

You can't sleep. You're tossing and turning, constantly seeing the minutes pass by on the clock on your nightstand. You look over on the floor where the girls are sleeping in their sleeping bags because they insisted on staying the night in your room.

You can't seem to get the image of those damn shorts Billy was wearing out of your head and you really wished you had pulled him inside and had your way with him when you had the chance. You're convinced that he did it on purpose, offering up his best asset up on a platter and you almost took the bait.

If you had the option do it over, you would have pegged him the way that you were convinced that he was silently begging for. Why else would he have worn such short shorts for?

Or maybe you're just overthinking it. You have to be delusional because why the fuck would he have worn those for you? He should know that you wouldn't fuck him if he were the last man on earth, but do you kind of want to now?

Why do you suddenly want to see what the hype is about? You want to know if his dick is really as big as they say, to know if he's as good in bed as you've heard he is. You're just curious, you try to convince yourself. You're actually just wanting to see if they're right. If you'd like it. You're not attracted to him, no fucking way. This would purely be for research purposes.

You spend the rest of the night thinking about nothing but stupid Billy and his stupid great ass. You think about the two of you in all sorts of positions as you beg and plead for him to do more, to go harder, faster, and he listens, nothing but dirty words falling from his pretty lips as he pins you down to the counter in your kitchen. He's pressing your face into the countertop, thrusting in and out of your ass as one of his hands kneads your tit, making you moan so loud, but he's got your underwear stuffed into your mouth because he doesn't want you waking anyone up.

You wake up in disappointment, your dream so vivid that it almost felt real. You can't believe that you had sex dream about Billy of all people. and you liked it. How the fuck is it that just seeing him in those stupid shorts somehow rewired your brain and made you actually interested in him? You're pretty sure that you've actually gone mad.

You sit up in your bed and notice that the once occupied sleeping bags in the floor are now empty. You then look and see that it's already eleven in the morning. Even during the summer this is the latest you've slept in. You try to shake your thought from the night before and head out of your room to see your dad, El, and Max at the table, eating what looks like breakfast from McDonald's.

"Hey, sleepy head," Your dad greets you with a smile, pulling out the chair next to him that he's saved for you. You plop down and he shoves the bag over to you and upon opening it, you realize that it's your usual order.

"Sleep well?" He asks, reaching over to ruffle your hair and you slap his hand away. "Somebody's grumpy," he laughs then goes back to his biscuit.

"No, I didn't sleep well because somebody was snoring," you glare at El. It's not a total lie since she was snoring loudly, but you can't exactly tell your father of all people that you were thinking about Billy Hargrove in an inappropriate manner. In fact, you can't tell anyone at this table so you're just going to take it to the grave.

You're surprisingly quiet during the rest of breakfast and as soon as Jim and El leave to take Max home, you race to your room and grab your phone, feverishly dialing the number you know by heart as your heart beats rapidly in your chest.

You feel like your going to throw up as it rings for what feels like forever. You never call Steve about boy problems, but now you feel like you have to, to get confirmation that you're not actually going crazy. Steve is the person you feel like you can go to for anything, so why are you so nervous to tell him that you might be interested in Billy?

Maybe it's because you know he'll be grossed out or maybe it's because you're afraid he'll be jealous even though it's very clear that he's not even remotely interested in you romantically.

"Hello?" The familiar voice rings through the phone.

"Steve, hey," you greet. "Do you have time to talk?"

"Yeah, of course. What's up?" So you tell him everything and he listens like the great friend he is, only offering his opinion when he's asked for it. And that's why you always like talking to him. Because he genuinely listens and offers good advice and never judges you for what you have to say.

"You know how I said you can tell me anything?" He asks as soon as you finish speaking.

"Yeah."

"Yeah, I changed my mind." Well, so much for him not judging you.

"I spared you the details."

"And thank god for that. So what exactly is the reason you're telling me all of this?"

"Because I want to know if I'm totally crazy for wanting to go for it."

"Why should my opinion matter? If you want to fuck Billy, y/n, then fuck Billy. What do I care?" He genuinely doesn't care about your sex life and just wants to do what you want to do. He doesn't know why you're asking his permission to fuck Billy Hargrove.

"So I'm not crazy?" You're feeling even more nervous even though calling Steve was supposed to calm you down.

"Look, I'm not blind. The guy's hot, alright? And I think if you want go for it, you should."

"Thanks Steve."

"Anytime. And if you do go for it, please, please spare me the details."

"Will do," you nod even though he can't see you then hang up. You then hurry out of the room and head out to your car, preparing to head to the pool where you know Billy will be. If you're going to make this proposition, you want to do it face to face.

Billy hasn't been able to stop thinking about you since he showed up at your house yesterday. Seeing you in that large t-shirt made his brain short circuit, immediately wondering what you've got going on under it.

He wants you so bad and the fact that you don’t want anything to do with him makes his want even stronger. He sees it as a challenge. He thinks needs to flirt with you just a little more to get you to crack. He saw the way you were checking him out and now he’s thinking of cutting the shorts even shorter to give you a little taste of what you seem to want so badly.

He ended up buying another “bodice ripper” as he found out the novels are called at the book store and he just can’t fucking put it down. He’s even more interested in the story now since he’s cast you and him as the leads.

Sebastian has got his hand up Juliette’s dress and Billy’s just imagining what it would be like to get his fingers inside you. He’d tease you about how wet you are then got to town, fucking you with his fingers, making you come over and over, until you’re begging for his massive cock.

He’s thinking about you so much that he swears that he sees you out of the corner of his eye, making your way over to him in a hurry. God, he’s really got to stop thinking with his dick.

But you’re calling his name, so it must be real, right? He looks down and from this angle, he’s got the perfect view of your cleavage. He’s so distracted by it that he’s not even paying attention to what you’re saying. He sees your lips moving-god, your lips. He doesn’t usually kiss during sex, but he suddenly wants to kiss you stupid. He wants to kiss you while he grinds against you, making you beg for his-

“Billy?” You ask and he finally snaps out of his dirty fantasy, his eyes snapping up to your face.

“Hm?”

“Can we talk for a second?” Is that code for you wanting to hook up? Whatever you want, he’s in. He climbs down the ladder then comes to meet you face to face.

“What is it, doll?” He asks, his voice so smug because he’s finally able to read you like a book. You’re nervous, guard completely down and he’s loving that he’s finally gotten through to you.

“Can we talk…in private?” You’re picking at the skin around your thumb nail and he’s wondering why you just won’t just come right out and ask him. Yeah, you definitely want his cock.

He blows his whistle and you cover your ears as checks his watch. It’s time for his break anyway so he calls for an adult swim before grabbing you by the hand and taking you into the locker room. This isn’t the first hookup he’s had during his break and it definitely won’t be the last.

He’s not going to give in right away, though. He wants you to beg. He wants you to be whining for him before he even lays a hand on you. He’s certain that he’s so powerful that he could make you come just with his words. And that’s exactly what he intends to do.

“So you finally want me to fuck you, huh, doll?” He asks as he pulls a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, removing one from the pack, then lighting up.

Normally, you find smoking to be disgusting, but when Billy does it, he’s so fucking hot that it’s unfair. The way he puts it between his lips-god, his pretty pink lips-and blows the smoke out like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

You don’t admit it like you were intending, you just take his hand and a pen from your purse before scribbling down an address then fleeing the locker room. He looks down at your pretty, neat handwriting and realizes that he recognizes the address. It’s the Motel 6 on Cornwallis where he was supposed to meet Karen Wheeler before she bailed.

He smiles to himself as he’s finally gotten another one then spends the rest of his break thinking about all the ways he’s going to make an absolute mess of you.

Billy is already at the motel when you get there. He’s leaning against the fence of the pool, with his back facing you, smoking yet another cigarette. He’s wearing the same outfit from when he showed up at your house, but this time, the shorts are even shorter. So short, in fact, that his ass is hanging out. God, what you would give to give it a squeeze. To use it as your personal stress ball as he fucks you. What you would give to give it a much needed spanking.

You approach him and pluck the cigarette from his lips, putting it between your own and taking a drag, only to cough immediately.

“Jesus, take it easy, Hopper,” he says as he takes the cigarette back from you.

You’re still coughing and Billy doesn’t know why he’s so worried, lightly patting your back to help you out, suddenly wishing he had some sort of beverage to make it all go away. He doesn't know when his hands started rubbing smooth circles along your back, but you’re stepping closer to him, feeling much more brave than he is. 

“I’m good, I’m good,” you tell him. “Sorry.” 

“Why are you apologizing?” You actually don’t know why, but feel like you should.

“I don’t know. Now c’mon,” you lift the latch of the gate that leads to the pool and open it slowly before taking Billy by the hand, leading him through the gate. His fingers are rough but somehow soft and you can’t wait to have them roaming all over your body. 

The lights that are lining the inside of the pool somehow make the dingy coloring even more so, but the heat of the night is making it look inviting despite how gross it looks. You just want to dive right in and take a swim. You don’t care if it looks like it hasn’t been cleaned in years, you just need to feel the cool water against your skin. 

So, you begin to strip. It’s not by any means sexy like you wanted it to be as you’re just desperate to just get out of your clothes. And Billy doesn’t even seem to be phased by this, just checking you out as you pull off your shirt and shorts so you’re just left in your bra and panties. He barely even gets the chance to look at your body before diving into the water, just staring at you, confused as your head pops up from the water. 

Apparently Billy didn’t get the swimming memo since he’s still standing there, fully clothed. So, he’s quick to get down to his underwear and follow you, diving into the water, probably (definitely) not looking nearly as graceful as you. 

“Never pegged you for a bad girl Hopper,” he says as he surfaces, pushing his hair out of his face. You’re over by the shallow end, sitting on one of the steps, running your fingers through your hair, trying to get the knots out. 

“That just goes to show how little you know about me, Hargrove,” you reply as he sits next to you. The lights in the pool usually make people look not so great, but you look absolutely beautiful in the blue-green hue. He really wishes he had a camera so he could capture this moment, you looking at him with that sweet smile. 

You scoot closer to him, so that your bare thighs are touching. You wrap your arms around his neck, twirling a piece of his hair around your pointer finger. Your face is inching your face towards his. His hands wrap around his waist as his lips find yours in a gentle kiss. Billy doesn’t think he’s ever been this gentle with a woman, and just as he’s starting to enjoy it, you kick it up a notch, tilting your head to the side as your tongue slides into his mouth. He hasn’t kissed anyone in so long and it feels so good. 

Your lips are soft and you taste sweet, but he can’t quite make out what it is. He could do just this for hours and be satisfied. He doesn’t why he always denies this part of sex, but he thinks he’s just enjoying it because it’s you. He lets out a moan as you tug on his hair, now straddling his lap. 

“Fuck,” he whines into your mouth as your fingers wind into his hair, giving it a tug at his scalp as you bite down on his bottom lip. You’re now grinding against him and his nails dig into your hips, his head falling backwards, giving you the perfect opportunity to kiss his neck. 

They start out soft and gentle, but then you’re using your tongue, licking and sucking on his skin, driving him absolutely crazy. He’s hard beyond belief and he swears he’s going to come right there just because of what you’re doing with your mouth, your wonderful talented mouth. 

He’s seeing stars, whining and moaning as you work on his neck, giving him a hickey. As nice as this is, as much as he’s enjoying it, he needs to get inside you because he’s about to bust. You bite down on the skin and he moans again, your name slipping from his lips. You’ve got him right where you want him and you’re sure that he’s ready now. 

Your lips find his again, desperate and hungry, still grinding against him and he’s getting harder by the second. His hip buck against yours and you move so he can get his underwear off and you remove your own before settling yourself onto his cock. 

“You’re so big,” you tell him and his eyes light up at your observation. He’s very well aware of this, but hearing it from you is a huge compliment. He loves seeing you like this, on top of him in nothing but your bra. This is something he could only dream about, something he has dreamed about even though he’d never admit it. 

You watch him come undone as you begin to ride him, eating up how quickly you were able to dominate him. It’s clear that you have the control here and he’s loving it. He’s always on top, but letting you take the lead is much more fun. He wants you to boss him around, to make him your bitch. 

“Yeah? You like that?” You ask and he nods, feeling fucked out already and you’ve barely even done anything. Maybe it’s because he never engages in foreplay so he has more energy for the main event. “Look at you. Already tired, baby?” God, he really wants you to call him that again. 

“No,” he replies through a deep breath, bucking his hips against yours. “Keep going.”

You continue, moving faster as his hands move up to remove your bra as he continues to buck his hips against yours, trying his best to keep up with you. As soon as your chest is bare, he can’t help but stare, watching your tits bounce up and down. And just when he thought you couldn’t get any hotter. 

“Fuck, you feel so good, baby,” you moan as you pick up your pace, and Billy’s pretty sure that it’s the hottest thing he’s ever heard. You moan again and again as his hips buck against yours, wanting to make you feel as good as you’ve made him feel.

There’s no way he can fuck anyone else after this. It’s like someone mediocre going on stage to perform right after Prince. This is easily the best sex he’s ever had and it’s not even over. He’s got to have you every night for the rest of his life now. And if this night is all you’re wanting from him, then maybe he’ll just refrain from ever sleeping with anyone ever again. 

Although, he’d never admit any of this to you. His ego won’t allow it. He likes being complimented, but he’s never one to do so unless it directly benefits him. Well, except for him telling you how pretty you looked. That was just because he wanted to. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, doll,” he moans as he comes and you don’t even care if he pulls out. You just help him ride his high and you’re close, your eyes shut tight as his name rolls off your lips. And fuck does it feel good to hear you scream it. 

“Billy, oh my god. His name tumbles out of your mouth as you reach your peak reached and fuck does it feel good for him to hear you scream it. 

Once you’ve come down, you climb off him and hurry to retrieve your underwear, Billy quickly following behind even though he’s not as in a rush as you are. He wants to stay here for a little longer, just to hold you in his arms and shower you with compliments. He might even actually tell you that you’re the best he’s ever had. 

“If I’m not home by ten, I’m going to be dead,” you tell him and now he understands, because of course Jim Hopper would still have his daughter under curfew even though she’s an adult now. 

He doesn’t know what time it is, but doesn’t want to be the reason why you’re late so he lets you go, not getting dressed nearly as quickly as you, but he’s still trying to keep up. He’s wondering how you don’t completely hate the wet clothes against your skin and how you’re going to explain that to your dad, but he supposes that isn’t any of his business. 

So he watches you slip on your flip flops as he gets out of the pool with his underwear on. He’s pulling on his shorts which is proving to be a struggle, but he eventually gets them on and throws on his shirt as he’s hurrying to catch up with you, following you to your car. 

“Well, this was fun,” you tell him with a bright smile. “We should do it again sometime. You can get the house number from Max, right? I’m sure he has it.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Great. Don’t be a stranger, alright?” You ask, leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek before you get into your car. You start it up and Billy watches you back out of the parking lot, knowing that he’s going to be giving you a call very soon.