#upon second thought One note: None of that shit

[yaoi-hate-machine]

it was really a fantastic way to start the day being shown a horrible wound, literally passing out, and immediately being misgendered upon coming to. 10/10 no notes

[moosesarecute]

You’re bleeding

15 years old

You had been out flying, feeling the air in your hair. It was finally nice weather in Windhaven and you didn’t waste one second. You woke up, ate breakfast with your family, hurried to do your lessons and then immediately went flying.

You took your usual route. Above the trees, towards north, then towards west, before you went south-east and towards your home. You had been flying for an hour, but you were still quite far away from home, when you suddenly felt intense pain in your lower stomach.

You became dizzy and lost control. You hadn’t even realized you were falling before you hit the top of the highest tree.

You fell in between all the branches, but luckily managed to take some control back before you hit the ground. That was before you felt another pain in your stomach and you fell the last meters to the ground.

It took some time for you to get back on your feet. You had small cuts on your arm and face, but luckily your wings seemed unharmed. Most of all you felt embarrassed.

You knew that if some of the Illyrian boys saw you lose control in such a manner, they would never let you forget it. You already had a hard time making friends in Windhaven, you didn’t want to make it worse for yourself.

You curled together on the ground as another cramp spread through your body. Within seconds you also started to smell the blood.

You had started your first cycle. And you were alone, in the middle of the illyrian woods.

You realized to had to hurry home so that no one would find and hurt you.

With one foot in front of the other you started to walk home. You had to stop every other minute when the pain became too unbearable, but you tried your best to move as swiftly as possible.

You felt like you had walked forever. Your back was killing you, your legs hurt and your stomach felt like it was going to fall apart.

But none of that mattered, because you were home.

With three slow steps you walked up the stairs to your home. You carefully opened the door and walked in.

All you needed now was a bath and your mother’s comforting embrace. Then all would be better. At least that’s what you told yourself.

However as you walked into the living room, you were not met by your mother, but rather your brother’s best friend. Unfortunately for you, it was not the friend you looked upon as another brother, of course not, that would have been too big of a favor from the cauldron. It was of course the friend you had a massive crush on, Azriel.

“This can’t be happening,” you muttered to yourself and made your way towards the stairs.

“What do you mean?” Azriel asked you and you felt your face turn red.

“Nothing,” you answered quickly and tried to get up the stairs.

Note the word “tried”.

You took two steps and a new cramp, worse than any of the previous ones, spread from your stomach to your back and legs, making you fall down the stairs.

“Shit,” you heard Azriel say and you soon felt his arms helping you stand. “Are you okay? What’s going on?”

You looked into his worried eyes and deep down you knew that he only wanted to help you, but you felt more embarrassed than you ever had before.

In only one day you had managed to crash into a tree and fall down the stairs. Everyone must think you’re a fool.

“Are you in there?” Azriel carefully waved a hand in front of your face.

“I’m fine,” you answered with an awkward laugh. “You clumsy me.” You did a hand movement to emphasize your clumsiness. “This moment is going to hunt me for the rest of my life.” you thought.

The way Azriel was looking at you made you understand that he didn’t believe you at all.

That’s when you started to realize how awful you surely looked. You looked down on your arms and some of the deepest cuts were still healing. And even though you felt like you were drenched in blood, you wore dark pants, so you couldn’t see the blood. However that didn’t mean you couldn’t smell it.

“You’re bleeding,” Azriel stated.

You’re sure your cheeks were as red as the blood between your legs when you turned around, out of Azriel’s helping arms, and carefully made your way into the bathroom.

You had just laid down into bed after a long and warm bath when you heard a knock on your door.

Knowing that it was Azriel, since you hadn’t heard anyone else come home, you chose to not answer.

“Rhys is on his way home. He tried to contact your mother, but she is in an important meeting in Velaris with your father. It will be a few hours before she comes home.” He took a break. “I’m leaving some stuff here if you need anything. Or you can just ask if you want something else.”

You heard him set something down and then he walked back down the stairs.

It took you over a minute to even get out of bed. You felt dizzier and more exhausted than earlier and the pain was now constant.

Carefully, you opened the door. You didn’t want him to know home helpless you were and you thought that if he didn’t hear you, he would never know.

What you saw almost made you cry.

On a big plate you had two different types of chocolate, a pain tonic, your current book, a bowl of your mother’s soup and a cup of your favorite tea. In the middle of the plate was a note where it stood in beautiful handwriting “you need to eat something before you can take the pain tonic, if you want it of course”.

Beside the plate stood a few different period products.

You took everything into your room and suddenly the pain felt more bearable.

You woke up to the sound of your bedroom door closing. You had eaten the soup and taken the tonic and not even minutes after the tonic started to work, you had fallen asleep.

“Mind if I join you?” Your brother asked you.

You only nodded.

Your brother laid down beside you and held his arms around you in a careful embrace.

“How are you feeling?”

“Everything hurts,” you said with a whimper. “And I’m so cold.”

He tightened his embrace a little, but lifted one of his hands and held it to your forehead.

“Seems like you’re running a little hot as well.”

“I feel awful,” was all you managed to respond.

“I know, little one, I know.”

Your brother kept you company and soon both of you had fallen asleep.

Hours later, your mother came home.

“Where’s Rhysand and Y/N?” She asked Cassian and Azriel who currently were the only two in the living room.

“Up in her room I think,” Cassian said.

Your mother walked up the stairs and slowly opened the door to your bedroom.

She had to hold back tears as she saw her son and daughter sleeping, knowing that they would always take care of each other, even if she wasn’t there.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

430 years old

“What’s going on with y/n?” Azriel asked as soon as Rhys answered his mental calls.

He was out on a small mission and his mate had silenced the bond. You didn’t even answer when he tugged.

“She didn’t show up to our meeting,” Rhys said. “I haven’t been able to go check on her yet.”

“I’m coming home,” Azriel told his brother and put up his mental shields.

When you didn’t open the door when he knocked, Rhys became even more worried.

He slowly opened the door to your cottage and walked in. Everything seemed to be in order, so he calmed down a little.

“Y/N? Are you here?”

You didn’t answer.

Rhys made his way up the stairs and found the door to you and Azriel’s bedroom. He knocked on the door.

“Come in,” you answered.

When he heard the tone of your voice, Rhys immediately knew something was wrong.

He opened the door and immediately smelled the smell of blood.

“I’m sorry I missed the meeting, Rhysie. I didn’t realize I fell asleep again,” you explained to your brother.

“Can I get you anything?” Rhys asked with a worried look.

“I’m fine, I just need some more sleep.”

“Okay…but call for me if you need anything. Or want anything. I’ll get it for you.”

Rhys left the room and immediately reached out to your mate.

“She started her cycle,” he said. “I asked her if she needed anything, but she said no. What can I get her?”

Azriel cursed to himself. His mate’s cycles were never regular. This one came only 5 months after the last one. He hated that he wasn’t there for her.

Azriel told Rhys what he usually does when you are on your cycle.

“I’m on it,” Rhys answered and began looking around.

You woke to your bedroom door closing once more. Slowly, you sat up and saw your brother standing with a tray of two types of chocolate, a pain tonic, a new book, some soup and a cup of tea.

“You have to eat before you can take the tonic,” your brother said. “It should give some pain relief and lower your fever, according to Madja.”

He sat the tray down on your lap and you immediately started to eat the soup. You needed the pain tonic as fast as possible.

“Thanks, Rhysie,” you said in between spoonfuls.

Your brother stayed as long as he could, before he had to go back to being High Lord.

Azriel entered your bedroom and sat down on your bed. He had flown the fasted he could to get home to you.

He started to move some of your hair away from your face as a way to carefully wake you up.

“Hi,” he said as soon you opened your eyes. “Mind if I join you?”

You nodded and he soon laid down next to you. You moved closer to him and he embraced you with both his arms and wings.

“You took the tonic?” He asked and you again only nodded as an answer. “Not feeling any better I guess?”

“Everything hurts,” you told him and you felt his embrace tightened a little. His hand moved to your lower stomach and the other one started to brush through your hair.

Your mate’s small actions made you feel a little better and sleep found you easier than before.

You found comfort in knowing that you always had someone to take care of you.

[whoreforsexymen]

Hi, love! This request is for prompt #34 on your list ("That's not nearly desperate enough."). I saw a post saying how Jayce gives off major girl dad vibes, and needless to say I've been thinking about it relentlessly. Because you cannot tell me that man does not have some form of breeding kink

So I was thinking, potentially in the middle of sex or not— your choice, Jayce says one thing or another about wanting a baby. It's the reader who basically makes him beg for it. Not because they need convincing, but because they are simply a little shit. Thus comes the "That's not nearly desperate enough." Upon a fine amount of begging and those damn eyes of his

Then, depending on which route you go with how this ensues, perhaps the following smut of the reader showing Jayce some mercy. Thanks!

Beg | Jayce Talis

Pairings: Jayce Talis x Fem!Reader

Pronouns: None used, but AFAB anatomy descriptions!

Rating: NSFW, 18+, MDNI !! You WILL be blocked!

Word Count: 2.2k

Tags: Breeding Kink, Sub!Jayce (kinda), Power Bottoming (kinda), Fingering

Summary: You make Jayce beg to cum inside you :)

Notes: Prompt List, (Prompts used below)!! Decided to combine these two asks!! Enjoy, my lovelies <3

1. “Stop looking at me like that or else I’m gonna cum too fast.”

9. “That’s a bold decision, considering how I’m balls deep in you right now.”

34. “That’s not nearly desperate enough.”

“Stop looking at me like that, or else I’m gonna cum too fast…” Jayce’s voice was low, trembling with strain as his hips faltered against yours. The heat of his confession spilled into the air between you, thick and heavy, like the tension that coiled in his chest and knotted in his stomach. His breaths came in shallow gasps, his control slipping with every passing second under the weight of your gaze—sharp, hungry, and devastatingly unintentional.

You smirked, slow and wicked, as though savoring the power you held over him. Leaning in, your eyes locked onto his with a deliberate, sultry focus that made his pulse thunder in his ears. The intensity in your gaze was an artful torment, a silent promise to draw him out, to unravel him completely. His admission had emboldened you, as though he had handed you the exact weapon with which to ruin him. You tilted your head ever so slightly, the subtle motion laced with playful cruelty, shaking it softly, as if to say you have no plans to ever stop.

Jayce’s breath hitched as he bit down hard on his bottom lip, his last-ditch effort to stifle the tidal wave building within him. The heat radiating from your body, the way your lips curved into that knowing smile, the way your eyes burned into his soul—all of it was too much. His hands gripped at the sheets like a lifeline, his knuckles whitening with the effort it took to hold back. But there was no sanctuary here, no reprieve from the way you looked at him.

Your eyes—Gods, your eyes—they were his damnation and his salvation. They held a power over him that was almost supernatural, stripping him of every wall, every defense, leaving him raw and exposed in their glow. They spoke volumes without uttering a word, a language of seduction that rendered him powerless.

It wasn’t just the way you looked at him—it was what you looked at him with. That simmering desire, the cruel teasing, the unspoken promise that you wouldn’t stop until he faltered, or crumbled completely. It tested him, pushed him to limits he never thought existed, made his composure feel like a delicate, fragile thing.

And as the pit in his stomach burned hotter, as his muscles tensed and his restraint frayed to the brink, Jayce realized that no matter how hard he fought it, he wasn’t losing to you—he was giving himself over willingly. Piece by piece, shudder by shudder, your gaze was swallowing him whole, and he couldn’t bring himself to look away.

”That’s a bold decision, considering how I’m balls deep in you right now,” he managed to groan out, his voice thick with strain as his hips stammered against yours. Each thrust was a testament to his unraveling restraint, his body caught between fervent need and the thin threads of control. He drove into you with everything he had, every ounce of strength dedicated to holding back the inevitable—keeping the essence of his soul from spilling over and claiming you completely.

“Might not have enough time to pull out,” he whined, his voice trembling with hesitation. The words were a warning, but they came coated in something deeper, something darker—a want he couldn’t quite mask. The cracks in his resolve were widening, and beneath his deceiving cadence lay a silent plea for permission to let go, to give in to the primal urge clawing at his chest.

“Then don’t,” you said simply, your voice calm, steady, as if the words were inconsequential. As if they weren’t coated in such hefty meaning. You delivered them with a quiet finality, as though their weight were nonexistent—like they weren’t a succulent worm on a hook, the chain pulling him deeper into you.

But they were. They hit him with a force that stole the very breath from his lungs, his hips sputtering for the briefest moment before resuming their feverish pace. The simplicity of your words belied their gravity, and yet, he felt it. Felt the command, the invitation, the absolution in them. You weren’t just permitting his surrender—you were demanding it, and he knew he couldn’t refuse. Not when the heat of your body surrounded him, not when the depths of your voice ignited something cardinal within him. Something fundamental.

Jayce let out a guttural sound, a jumbled mix of restraint and surrender, as his body moved on instinct, his mind clouded by the smoke of a blaze you’d set in him. There was no hesitation left, no question of what would come next—only the inevitability of his complete and outright submission in your arms.

“I… I don’t think I heard you right…” Jayce muttered, his breath ragged and uneven. He searched your eyes, desperate to confirm if he had truly heard those words—or if his mind was playing tricks on him.

“I said,” you murmured, your voice low and deliberate, leaning in until your lips nearly brushed his.

“Don’t.”

The word hung between you like a spark, igniting the air. You captured his lips in a searing kiss, neediness bleeding into every movement. Your legs tightened around his waist, the press of your bodies perfectly attuned to the rhythm you shared. Muscles flexed and tensed in harmony, a symphony of heat and tenacity that left no room for doubt.

Jayce had heard you loud and clear.

There was no mistaking your words.

“Are you sure…?” he asked, his tone laced with uncertainty. He needed to know if this was just a momentary impulse driven by desire, or if you truly meant it.

You raised a brow, curious about his sudden doubt. Why now, of all times? You had never given him a reason to question you before.

“Yes. But,” you said, a sly smile playing on your lips, “you’ll have to beg for it.”

The words stopped him in his tracks, his confidence faltering. Jayce had never once let himself slip into submission during your most intimate moments. The idea of begging was as foreign to him as Undercity culture.

“Beg…?” he repeated, his voice shaking slightly. A low, guttural moan followed as you rolled your hips to meet one of his thrusts, driving him deeper inside you, a skillful way of coaxing him further and further to the edge of his pleasure.

“Fuck—” he groaned, the sound crude and wanting as he lost his composure quicker than he had found it. His head dipped, his damp forehead pressing into the curve of your neck, seeking solace in the warmth of your skin.

“Yes. Beg,” you demand, your legs tightening their grip around his hips until they tremble under the strain. He’s reaching a depth within you that feels otherworldly, leaving your vision speckled with stars.

“Beg me to let you fuck a life into me,” you command, your voice a mix of authority and unrefined desire.

Jayce’s head snaps up, his gaze locking onto yours with a flash of realization. The unspoken challenge in your eyes—now or never—spurs him forward. Determination floods his features, transforming him into a man with the relentless resolve of someone who has just uncovered the treasure of a lifetime.

Jayce bit down on the inside of his lip, the hesitation lingering for only a cursory moment. This wasn’t a time for half-measures; it had to be all or nothing. Testing the waters now wasn’t an option—not when everything hinged on this.

The thought of you, brimming with his very essence, the force that gave life, shaped flesh, and coursed through veins, sent his mind spiraling. His muscles quivered, his hips ablaze from the unyielding drive he poured into them. Each movement was unyielding, a cycle of sharp thrusts and aching retractions, repeated with merciless precision.

“Nghh– fuck– please.” The words spilled from his lips, raw and desirous, betraying the composure he struggled to maintain.

A laugh bubbles out of you at his first attempt, the sound shaking and breaking as it’s overtaken by the relentless rhythm of his thrusts—each one harder and faster than the last.

“That’s… not nearly desperate enough,” you manage to tease, though your voice wavers, the confidence you’d mustered teetering under the intensity of his pace.

Jayce’s response is a whimper, low and raw, as his lips find your ear. He presses a kiss there, followed by a gentle nip at your earlobe, his breath warm and ragged.

“Please—fuck—please, my love,” he moans, his words trembling with need. The sound of him like this—a rare vulnerability, inherently submissive—sends a jolt through you, igniting something unfamiliar and electrifying.

“I want… No, I need to drench your cunt with my cum until it takes. Until you’re walking around our house, belly all big and round with our baby inside. The baby I put there. The baby I fucked into you.” His gasps grow louder, his chest heaving as his heart pounds, racing to keep up with the demands of his body. You feel every beat, every pulse, as he clings to you, desperate to maintain the rhythm.

“Please, my love. Please, oh please let me fuck this baby into you. Let me fuck it nice and deep into you. Let me fill you full of my cum and watch it drip out of you so I can fuck it back in over and over again.” When his cry breaks the air, it’s raw and guttural, his fingers digging into the sheets so tightly that they slip free from the mattress beneath him.

“I need it, my love. I need it so fucking bad,” he cries out again, his voice breaking as he sinks his teeth into the curve of your shoulder—a futile attempt to temper the overwhelming tension consuming him.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” he pleads, each word punctuated by desperate whines that blend with the raw sound of skin meeting skin.

You can’t hold back your own cries anymore; the relentless rhythm of his thrusts shatters your composure. He’s undeniably desperate now—there’s no question.

“Gods! Jayce! Fuck! Yes!” you scream, your head pressing deeper into the satin pillow beneath you. Your back arches instinctively, curving to meet him as he slams into that exquisitely sensitive spot, over and over again, driving you to the edge of reason.

Jayce knew you were getting as close as he was, but he was always ever-most determined to make you cum before him, or with him.

His teeth leave your shoulder, and he lifts slightly, just enough to slip an arm between your bodies. As his fingers find their mark, Jayce’s gaze locks onto yours. His mouth hangs open, his eyes dark and blown wide, filled with raw, unfiltered desire. Pure, unadulterated lust radiates from him as his touch pushes you closer and closer to the precipice.

He brushes the pads of his fingers against your clit, quickly and effortlessly rubbing tight circles around the sensitive bud. He could feel your walls clenching in response, desperate to milk his needy cock dry. Desperate to coax every drop his balls could spare.

Your breath quickens, chest rising and falling in a desperate rhythm, aching to press against his once more—but his arm remains a firm, teasing barrier. His fingers move with a slow, deliberate intent, tracing and circling your clit until pleasure borders on the unbearable.

Just as the sensation threatens to tip into numbness, release strikes like a missile—blazing, unrelenting, precise. It shatters through you, sharp and all-consuming, like a rock splintering glass. Your muscles lock, your body taut with the force of it, nails sinking deep into the firm, heated flesh of his arms.

Jayce’s thrusts grow erratic, each snap of his hips losing precision as desperation takes hold. Hisses and curses spill from his lips, laced with ragged gasps as he pounds into you with fevered urgency.

He’s close—so unbearably close—your walls gripping him like a vice, clenching and pulsing around his throbbing cock. The way you twitch and squeeze him sends his mind spiraling, pleasure coiling tight in his core, spinning his head like a top.

“Fuck,” he groans, voice breaking as he drives deep one final time. His cock pulses, spilling hot, thick cum inside you, filling you to the brim. Strands of it spurt and pool within, coating your cervix as he shudders through the intensity of his orgasm.

He stays buried inside you for a few lingering moments, your breaths falling into sync as the haze of pleasure slowly fades. His body stills, chest rising and falling as he collects himself, savoring the way you feel wrapped around him.

When you finally begin to settle, he pulls out—but before you can catch your breath, his hand drifts lower. Two fingers push deep into your slick heat, thrusting slow and deliberate, gathering every drop of his release and pushing it back inside you.

A cry escapes your lips, hands grasping blindly at the sheets as the pad of his thumb finds your clit once more, circling with torturous precision. Your head lifts, eyes locking with his—dark, hooded, full of wicked intent. A smirk tugs at his lips, lazy yet hungry, as his fingers drive deeper, curling just right, pulling another wave of pleasure from your already spent body. He opens his mouth to speak once more.

“I want a girl.”

[szqnxi]

OMG I NEED MORE OF NUMBER ONE FAN ITS ACTUALLY HAS ME GIGGLING AND KICKING ME FEET AHHH

Here ya go anon 😉 Also, don't hesitate to reach out if any of y'all want to be added on this fic's taglist

Your number 1 fan (Part 1)

Katsuki Bakugo x reader

Patrol was exceptionally boring, much to Katsuki's dismay. Today turned out to be a quite typical day and he absolutely hated it. There were no villains to fight or anything of the sort, which had left Katsuki itching for some action.

They had just finished patrolling the area and were currently hanging out on the rooftop of a random building in Musutafu. Kirishima and Mina  were engaged in their own conversation, bickering over options for dinner, leaving him alone to his own business.

He was scrolling through his phone, when he stumbled upon your new song called Juno. It had been released a week prior, but with his busy schedule, he hadn't had a chance to listen to it until now.

Perfect timing. He thought to himself as he put on his earphones.

Don't have to tell your hot ass a thing

Oh yeah, you just get it

Whole package, babe, I like the way you fit

God bless your dad's genetics, mm, uh

Not even a few seconds into listening and he was already certain that this would become his new favorite song of yours. The song was incredibly catchy and  he wasn't going to pretend otherwise. Katsuki was genuinely enjoying your song, finding himself unconsciously tapping his foot along to the beat.

The chorus of the song was captivating, though he wasn't really surprised by your lyricism because of your other songs.

But just when he thought the song couldn't get any better, the bridge part came along, hitting him harder than he had expected.

Adore me

Hold me and explore me

Mark your territory (Ah-ah)

Tell me I'm the only, only, only, only one (Ah-ah)

He froze, muttering a curse under his breath when he pictured your pretty face singing that particular line from the song, as if you were singing it directly to him.

*Click*

Katsuki snapped out of his thoughts when he spotted Mina holding up her phone, taking a picture of him. He had been so focused on your song that he didn't notice her approaching with her phone.

"The fuck are you taking a pic for?!" He scowled at Mina, who was now grinning mischievously before taking a picture, again.

"What are you even listening to?" Mina inquired.

"None of your goddamn business" He scoffed

She swiftly snatched one of his earphones, running away a little from Katsuki before listening to the song herself. "Oohh Juno? Nice song choice!" She commented, teasingly grinning at him.

Katsuki's eyes twitched.

"You... little shit!!" He growled, launching himself at Mina and started chasing her as she laughed and ran away like her life depends on it.

Coz it does.

Next>>

Number 1 Fan Masterlist

Note: This is short lol and as usual this ain't really proof read. Also, happy 100 followers to me. Feel free to drop some scenarios in my request box and I'll see if I can add it to future parts of this fic

[joequiinn]

You'll Just Have to Taste Me | toxic exes e.m. x reader

Summary | You knew you’d risk running into Eddie when you walked into one of his favorite music venues, but maybe that’s exactly what you were counting on.

Warnings & Notes | fem!reader, smut, established past relationship, toxic!reader, asshole!Eddie, shitty behavior all around, semipublic sex, unprotected sex (p in v), choking, ass play, name calling/mild degradation

Author's Note | I - a self-identified metal head - can’t stop listening to Sabrina Carpenter, and this is what it’s left me with. Eddie and reader are both assholes here, so if you aren't game for shitty, petty bad behavior, then this may not be the fic for you~

WC | 7.4k

!!! MINORS DNI !!!

You knew better than to pay visits to Eddie’s usual haunts. These dive bars and show venues crammed with sweaty drunks and kids carrying fake IDs were never your scene, but back when things were different, you were always happy to oblige him.

Since your break up, you’d been so good at avoiding any and all places you’d ever visited with Eddie in the past - the record store he dragged you into to buy the latest Megadeth or Iron Maiden cassette, the shitty fast food restaurant that supposedly had the “best chili in town,” the dollar theater that was always playing B-movies you’d never even heard of. You always felt that compulsion to step foot in these businesses on the chance of running into Eddie, but you had, thus far, managed to keep yourself in line.

But when your friend, Lara, mentioned that she’d be playing a show at the Viper Room this weekend, well… you simply couldn’t turn down her invitation. You had spent dozens upon dozens of nights in this little venue, either by Eddie’s side bobbing along to the loud music or watching him up on the stage, playing his guitar so damn aggressively that sometimes his fingers would bleed. You’d grown familiar with the Viper Room, with the metal music that made its walls shake and the bar top that was sticky from years upon years of spilled drinks; and you hadn’t been back since you and Eddie broke up.

So, you obliged Lara and her band, hoping that none of them would suspect that you agreed to come along because you wanted to run into Eddie. You’d had nearly everyone around you convinced that you were over the split, that you barely thought about your ex most days - but you knew the truth, and that was far from it.

You craved him desperately despite all the bullshit you put one another through, you missed him despite how ugly things ended between you two. And yet you loathed him in the same breath, hoping he was just as tormented as you following your break up;and if you took it upon yourself to make sure Eddie was dealt at least a small hand of torment, well…

So, here you were, prowling the Viper Room as you waited for Lara’s band to go on, gaze patrolling the venue for any sign of Eddie fucking Munson; it was practically unheard of for him not to pop in to see who was playing, so if he weren’t here you’d be royally pissed off. Your heart drummed nervously inside your chest, an uneasy rhythm that had you briefly second guessing this idea, wondering if you should just play it cool and not instigate something. After all, you’d always been prone to crazy shit that landed you in trouble, prone to aggressions and dramatics all simply because you could. Hell, Eddie could’ve used that as an excuse in your break up, but he was just as bad as you, confrontational and jealous and mean; needless to say, you were both a little fucked up.

And, eventually, you did spot Eddie halfway through the band’s first song, chatting up the security guy with a cigarette hanging from his lips, a beer held tight in one hand while his arm was hanging around some other chick. A nasty, envious wave of anger crashed over you at the sight of her, your eyes dark and crazy and dangerous.

And the more you looked at her, the more pissed off you got, the more red you saw washing over your vision - why the fuck did she look so much like you? From her hair to her build to her goddamn wardrobe, you felt like you were staring into some trick mirror warping your image - there was no way that this was some coincidence, Eddie wasn't that stupid.

You looked back and forth between her and Eddie, wondering if he brought this chick along on the off-chance that you’d be here to see them together. That was some shit you wouldn’t put past him, Eddie was no more above pettiness than you were. But did that mean he was hoping you’d be here, too? Your blood boiled even hotter at the thought; at least you didn’t bring some bargain bin version of Eddie along in the hopes that it would piss him off, you were just hoping to get him riled up a little.

Feeling just how rapidly your rage was escalating, you turned your back quickly and marched towards the bar in some measly attempt to compose yourself; you didn’t want to go flying off the handle, after all. The bartender that you’d grown familiar with over the years offered you a shot as if he knew exactly what was going on, and although you didn’t want anyone’s goddamn pity, you needed at least something to help you cool off.

You kept your eyes on Eddie and this chick, your stare following them as they mingled and danced and smoked. Whoever she was, it was obvious she was falling for Eddie’s charm just as quickly as you and everyone else did; Eddie, on the other hand, seemed only mildly interested, putting forth little effort to make her feel wanted. You smiled cruelly at that, though it ticked you off again because why would he bring her along otherwise?

At some point, the woman stole away to approach the bar, and like some animal just waiting to strike, you slunk over, cramming your way in beside her as she asked the bartender for a drink. She paid you no mind, clearly trying to ignore all the patrons in this place that must have been unfamiliar to her; you eyed her thoughtfully, not really sure what you planned on doing now but letting your mouth run anyway.

“First time here?” You asked in a tone that would’ve been suspiciously innocent to anyone that knew you. She looked at you with detached eyes, nodding before trying to turn her attention away, a silent indication that she wasn’t interested in conversation. You, however, weren’t done, “You here with Munson?”

Now, she looked at you more cautiously, actually taking the opportunity to look you in the eye, brow furrowed curiously, “Eddie really does know everyone, huh?”

You smirked snidely, leaning against the counter as you looked about the venue for the man in question, “Oh, everyone. I’d bet he’s been so preoccupied with everyone else that he’s barely paid any mind to you.”

You stared at her fiendishly, taking far too much pleasure in the way her expression slowly fell, the way her gaze grew concerned and wary. Just to make things worse, you continued, “Get used to being ignored, Eddie can’t help but entertain the masses while forgetting about the people standing right there.”

The woman looked at you dreadfully for a few long moments before her expression slowly morphed, twisting into a scowl as if something was dawning on her. And you simply looked back with a smug raise of your brow, taking far too much joy from antagonizing this stranger.

“My god, you’re Eddie’s ex, aren’t you?” Her tone was biting as she asked it; you smiled back brazenly, to which she rolled her eyes, “Jesus, you’re as bad as he said.”

“I like to think I’m worse.” You answered with glee as if to mock her, leaning in just a little, “But still not as bad as him.”

The woman pushed off of the bar, no longer concerned with getting a new drink, but she paused before stomping away, staring harshly at you. She looked you up and down crudely, and you could see the exact moment she realized the thing you had noticed earlier - the two of you looked damn near related. She scoffed at the realization, as if disgusted by both you and Eddie.

Cursing under her breath, she stormed off, your gaze following after her; you realized then that Eddie had seen the interaction and was already approaching you two, but before he could get a word out, the woman shoulder-checked past him.

Eddie’s glare was vicious as he met your eyes, and he looked frustrated enough that even you wanted to shrink just a little. His march towards you was hostile, eyes blazing and jaw clenched tight; shoving down your distress, you stood up tall and resilient, hoping your express was one of perfect, condescending apathy.

“She seemed really great, Eddie, shame it’s not going to work out.”

Eddie was upon you, practically trapping you between him and the bar as he glared daggers; you nearly gasped at the closeness and malice, at the familiar sensation of something ugly breaking out between you two.

“What the fuck did you do?” He growled.

You gave an innocent shrug, frowning falsely, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Eddie’s jaw flexed. His hand shot out and grabbed your elbow so aggressively that it made you choke on a yelp as he abruptly began to drag you towards the bathroom, shoving the door open without a care for whether or not someone may be in there. He pulled you into the cramped room, slamming and locking the door behind him before spinning his mean glare back around on you. You stared back just as harshly, never the type to back down when his temper was escalating; in fact, it took everything in you not to grin smugly, getting exactly the rise out of him that you were hoping for.

“You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?” His tone was biting as he took a threatening step into your space, trapping you between himself and the grimy tile wall at your back, “You show up here on the one night that I bring a date and pull some kind of stunt just to fuck with me. That’s laughable, even for you.”

Although your eyes were wild with the impulse to argue, you held in as much anger as you could, your attitude combative and condescending, “Me? You’re just as bad - coming to my friend’s gig, bringing a girl along with you that’s clearly some cheap knockoff of me. I’d bet you were fucking hoping I’d be here, just so you could rub it in that you’d ‘moved on.’”

Eddie’s laugh was blatantly unamused, sarcastic and nasty as he leaned in even closer, “You think I’d pull that? As if I’d ever want to see you again.”

You raised your brows and frowned in a false show of sympathy, “Oh, you poor thing who are you trying to convince - me or yourself?”

Eddie was so damn close that you could practically taste the booze on his breath, his body radiating so much heat that it dared to engulf you. His eyes were nearly pitch black as they burned into yours, “You’re impossible, you know that? You always were.”

“Careful, babe, I might take that as a compliment.” You grinned wickedly from ear-to-ear, pushing closer while jabbing a finger into his chest, “You’re just as bad as me, so stop pretending you’re some innocent victim to my shit.”Eddie smirked back just as cruelly, snapping his hand around yours in a vice grip, squeezing hard enough that it nearly hurt, “And don’t act like you were being harmless when we both know you’re too smart not to have an ulterior motive. So, are you here because Lara asked you to come or are you here for something else?”

Each word grew a little lower until it nearly sounded as if Eddie was whispering a threat; he inched closer, his face dangerously close to yours. Taking a deep breath to maintain your composure, you leveled him with a challenging glare, as if simply doing that could prove him wrong. You tipped your chin up defiantly, browning arching with all the attitude you could muster.

“I’ll only tell if you do.” Your tone was sickly sweet, lips but a short breath away from Eddie’s as you looked between his dark eyes.

“God, you’re a pain in my ass.” Eddie grumbled lowly, eyes flicking down to your cruel yet enticing red lips, fingers tightening around your hand that he still held trapped between you two.

Your expression was wicked in response, voice a taunting whisper, “But you miss me, don’t you?”

Eddie clenched his jaw tight, gaze flaring a little harsher as he stared as if his eyes could hurt you. A self-satisfied smile crawled across your lips, expression goading as you looked back, just waiting for the answer that you hoped would come. Eddie took a deep breath of frustration.

“You’re goddamn right.” He hissed as if the words burned his tongue, his face alight with the combined frustration and desire that you’d become familiar with after all your time together.

As your pleased grin grew larger, Eddie crashed his lips to yours with ferocity, his movements so fast that your head bounced back into the wall You moaned into the hateful kiss, arms flying up to grab at his vest, nails scratching his neck and chest in the process. Eddie crushed you back against the tile, hands grabbing and squeezing your body as if to both hurt you and memorize you all over again.

His mouth tasted like the familiar sting of whiskey, skin smelling of sweat and cologne in a combination that you’d missed desperately. You kissed him as if your life depended on it, sloppy and wet and aggressive, as Eddie’s hands snaked around your body to grab at your ass. He squeezed hard enough to make you hiss, a primal groan rumbling in his chest at the feel of you.

You reached up to grab fistfuls of his hair, yanking him back roughly just so you could hear that satisfying hiss of pain pass between his lips; you smiled sinfully as Eddie glared down his nose at you. Tauntingly, you tugged at his curls again, licking your lower lip as if the sight of his frustration whet your appetite like nothing else.

“This is the last date you ever go on with that girl?” You asked snidely, delighting in the way Eddie huffed with a glare.

“Last. One.” He answered with gritted teeth.

Your smile grew even crueler and wider, “You’ve got the real thing right here, you don’t need some other chick.”

You began to draw Eddie's lips back down to yours, but he abruptly pressed his large hand to your neck, fingers curling slightly without closing in. Surprise flashed across your expression before it was quickly replaced by excitement, Eddie’s words hot against your lips, “And if you’re going to start bossing me around again, you’re going to behave for me, got it?”

You reached your lips up to brush against his, “The best I can.”

Eddie’s fingers tightened, creating pressure on either side of your neck, “That was a yes or no question.”

A jolt ran down your spine, heat pooling in your center as your body clenched tight around nothing. Knowing exactly what he was doing to you, Eddie pressed his hot, tense body against yours insistently.

You practically gasped with anticipation, “Yes.”

A devious smirk crossed Eddie’s lips, eyes hooded and fiendish, “Good girl.”

An eager mewl sounded in your throat as Eddie’s hand tightened, lips meeting yours once more in a kiss so heated that it made your eyes cross. His other hand cupped your ass again, grip severe as his tongue forced its way past your lips, ensnaring yours dominantly.

Eddie rutted his hips clumsily against yours, his growing erection already creating a strained tent in his jeans; you moaned needily as you felt him growing harder against you. The rolling of his hips was rapacious, slow and deep as if he were already buried inside you; it made you desperate for some friction, tugging at Eddie’s hair again as you attempted to roll your hips with his.

Abruptly, Eddie stole his lips away, pressing his forehead against yours and using the weight of his body to keep your hips from moving again. A wicked smile spread across his lips as you moaned in frustration; chuckily airily, he rutted his hips one more time at a tantalizing pace, grip still firm and commanding on your neck.

“God, you’re so fucking easy,” his words were biting, and yet his tone was enthralled, “I’ve barely touched you and already you’re acting greedy.”

Using his hand to guide you, Eddie spun you around in the cramped space, directing you to the filthy sink, its faucet leaking. You braced your hands on the lip of the counter, as Eddie pressed himself flush to your back, cocked rubbing gainst your ass and mouth teasing at your ear. With a whine, you pushed your ass back against him, causing both of Eddie’s hands to tighten their grip again.

“So greedy,” He moaned in your ear, using his hand on your neck to direct your attention to the mirror - it was shattered and layered with fading stickers, but in one sliver of glass, you found his predatory eyes burning into you, “You can be patient, can’t you?”

You nodded even as you pushed back against him, the need for his body becoming too much already. In retaliation, Eddie reared his hand back and struck your ass with a practiced hit, eyes glinting as you yelped with surprise and delight.

“Patience.” He emphasized darkly, pressing his face into your hair and inhaling deeply as if he was starved and your scent could satiate him. As you shivered eagerly, Eddie’s hands dragged down your body, creating a hot trail along your back, your waist, your ass. You arched back into his touch, desperate for more. He palmed your ass once more before grabbing the waist of your tight pants, giving them one harsh tug to expose your plump ass and the itty, bitty thong you wore. Eddie curled his finger in its lacy band, snapping it against your skin as his lips tickled your ear again, “These ones were always my favorite…”

Your voice was a gasp, “I know.”

His hands squeezed your hips, fingers digging into your skin as he inhaled your scent again,  “Just for me, huh?”

You hummed a yes, gaze staring wantonly into the mirror’s broken reflection, watching Eddie’s dark expression in anticipation. He leaned back just enough to ogle your body, tongue poking out between his teeth as he delighted in the sight of you longing for him.

Eddie slid one of his feet between yours, nudging you to spread your legs for him, his hands hungrily groping at your ass. You obliged as much as the pants around your knees would allow, the cold of the bathroom causing goosebumps to break out across your exposed skin as you awaited Eddie’s next move.

His hand glided along your skin, dipping down between your legs and teasing you through the thin fabric of your thong. You moaned, trying to roll your hips closer, but Eddie was having none of it - his opposite hand slapped your ass again, jaw tight as he found your gaze in the reflection once more. The corner of his mouth curled up as he stared at you through his lashes.

Again, his fingers ghosted over your pussy, the near-contact causing you to practically growl with impatience. Eddie pressed his chest to your back again so he could speak lowly into your ear.

“You’re going to stand there like a good girl and wait - you only get what you want when I decide to give it to you.” The command made you moan, head rolling back as if Eddie were already touching you just the way you liked; you could only imagine the self-satisfied smirk that must have been on his lips, but you didn’t dare look at him in the mirror’s reflection.

Eddie snaked his arm around to your front as he pressed you flush against him, the tip of his cock poking your ass even through the fabric of his jeans. His hand slowly reached back down into your thong, fingertips grazing your skin in a way that sent a shiver through your entire body; you fought to hold still, hoping your patience would reward you.

Eddie’s calloused finger circled your clit, causing a moan to spill from your mouth as your grip tightened on the countertop. A huff of a laugh escaped Eddie as he applied more pressure, lips hot and close to your ear again.

“So, so easy…” He teased. You bit your lip as his finger prodded, gliding from your clit to your pussy and back, hips grinding slowly against your ass. As his fingertips moved in slow, practiced circles, he continued to taunt, “This what you wanted? To get me all riled up so I’d give you a piece of my mind?”

You nodded dumbly, throwing your head back as Eddie increased his pace just enough to make your body shudder. His opposite hand grabbed roughly at your hip, holding tight as his own impatience won out, abruptly dipping two fingers into your wet folds. You cried out in the same breath that Eddie moaned, grinding his hips while curling his fingers knuckle deep in just the way he knew you loved.

“Already so fucking wet…” He groaned into your hair as he slowly pumped his fingers inside you, cock twitching against your ass as a string of lurid sounds escaped your parted lips. God, it was pathetic just how easily you were coming undone in his hands, how easily you succumbed to Eddie’s touch - a months’ long dry spell ruined you, making you impossibly wet from the moment he laid a hand on you.

As Eddie’s fingers continued to pleasure you, he pressed his thumb to your clit, moving in tight, merciless circles that caused your back to arch, rear pressing hungrily against his cock and head thrown back onto his shoulder. Eddie’s opposite hand reached up to latch onto your neck again, his lips hot as they dragged along your cheek.

“Gonna cum already?” He teased breathily, smiling against your skin, “Gonna get off from just my fingers?”

“N-no--” You stuttered out, as if somehow that could keep you from spilling over.

Eddie hummed in disagreement, curving his fingers again, “This pussy’s still mine.”

Your breath hitched, preventing any arguments from leaving your mouth as Eddie picked up speed, fingers slick with your desire. His other hand reached from your neck to your jaw, twisting your head to face him so he could plant sloppy, wet, domineering kisses on your lips.

“Still mine…” He breathed out as you clenched around his fingers, unabashed moans escaping you as your senses became frenzied, knees already beginning to shake. You could feel Eddie’s lips curl into another wicked grin, “You better not cum yet.”

A desperate whine sounded out of you again, and so Eddie’s hand on your jaw squeezed tight, thumb cruel against your clit as he bent you forward a little over the counter. You blinked your eyes open, vision crossed as you met his stare in the mirror.

“If you cum now, I’ll stop.” Eddie taunted, curving his fingers again for good measure. You mewled pathetically, to which he pressed his hips against yours, grinding them with each repetition, “All you do is take and take and take. What did I say about behaving?”

Just to torment you further, Eddie nipped at your throat, teeth digging into the spot below your jawline; you groaned, to which he began to pump his fingers even faster. The sensation in your clit was becoming too much, your toes curling inside your boots as you leaned more of your weight over the counter; and to that, too, Eddie became even more cruel, swirling your clit so good it made you see goddamn stars behind your eyes.

You tripped over your words, all of them spilling out in succession as you began to come undone, “Fuc-- Eddie-- I can’t--!”

“Don’t you fucking dare.” He growled primally against your neck, but it was too late, your orgasm crashing over you wildly as you moaned unabashedly, legs shaking and pussy throbbing as you braced yourself over the sink.

Torturously, Eddie kept swirling your clit, making you shudder near uncontrollably. He bit at your skin again as his hand squeezed your jaw.

“You never listen, always gotta misbehave…” He grumbled, pulling back from you; you had to steady yourself, body still wracking from your orgasm, “Maybe I’ll go find that girl - bet I could fuck her for hours and she'd be good.”

Your head shot up, Eddie having said just the right words to bring you back to earth. Before you could glare at him in the reflection, though, he twisted one hand in your hair while the other smacked you across the ass, causing you to yelp in both pain and pleasure. Eddie pulled you back, pressing his cheek into your hair.

Finally catching your breath, you hissed,”You won't.”

“I won't?” Eddie teased, to which you shook your head; his fingers twisted even tighter.

Fuck, you could've drooled over the growl in Eddie’s voice, the way he manhandled you; and you were certain he knew it, too. You hoped to appear defiant as you kept your chin high and collected yourself, hiding your wince as Eddie tugged at your hair.

“Wanna keep me all to yourself, isn't that right, you brat?” His words were sharp and hot against your skin as he dragged his nose along your neck.

“Yes.” You nearly whispered, willing to play a little nicer if it meant Eddie would ravage you.

He smiled before nipping at your neck, lips trailing back up to your ear, his teeth grazing over your lobe as he purred, “Want this to be the only dick you ever get? Hm, no one fucks you like I do, isn’t that right, baby?”

You moaned as an aroused chill rolled through your body, arching back into Eddie and pressing your rear against his cock, still tight and strained within his jeans, just out of reach and teasing the fuck out of you, “Yeah…”

“Good.”

Eddie gave your pants another aggressive tug all the way down to your ankles, grabbing at your hips and giving them a hungry squeeze. He yanked you back a couple steps and pressed a firm palm to the center of your back, quickly making you lean over the counter; your forehead nearly bumped against the faucet in your shared excitement.

Eddie nudged the inside of your foot with his toe, insisting that you spread yourself even wider for him, to which you obliged. He groaned with anticipation, and you were sure he was eying your ass like it was a goddamn meal; unable to resist, he clapped his hand against your cheek again, drawing another delighted yelp out of you.

Eddie shoved your soaked panties to the side, teasing your pussy with his fingers again; the stimulation made you shiver, hips jolting from just how sensitive you still were. As he continued to glide his finger along your slit, you could hear Eddie’s belt unbuckling followed by his jeans unzipping - your pussy clenched at just the thought of his cock freeing from his underwear, the telltale sound of its head dully bouncing off his stomach then making you moan.

“So easy…” Eddie repeated again through gritted teeth, barely inserting one finger inside you just to watch you squirm. A faint whine escaped you as you attempted to push your hips back, but he stopped you easily, fingers digging into your waist as if in warning, “No no, you’re gonna be good for me, gonna be a pretty little cock sleeve.”

You nodded vigorously, trying to look back at Eddie over your shoulder. He stole his hand from your pussy and wrapped it into your hair again, pulling you back just enough so you could see the inflamed, dark look in his eyes, stare practically hypnotic. You could feel his cock ghosting along your rear, and you sighed with desperate longing.

Eddie dragged his free hand slowly up your body, groping and teasing up your back and neck to your face; he reached around and pressed his first two fingers to your parted lips, his gaze watching hungrily as he slid them into your mouth, your breath hot as you sighed eagerly. You closed your lips and swirled your wet tongue around Eddie’s fingers, eyes fluttering shut when you heard him groan and give your hair a small tug. When his cock twitched against your ass, you bobbed your head, mouth sliding up and down his calloused fingers as your spit made a vulgar slurping sound around him.

Eddie muttered sinfully as you sucked his fingers, his rings metallic and warm against your lips; if you weren’t so preoccupied, you would’ve mocked him for being just as easy and horny as you. After letting you thoroughly coat him in spit, Eddie popped his digits from your mouth, snaking back down between you and to your pussy again. You pressed back into his hand, his fingertips teasing at you - he grabbed his throbbing cock, tapping its head on your ass provocatively.

As he lined himself up with your entrance, you couldn’t help but moan at the way just his tip filled you up, giving your ass a little wiggle that made Eddie tug at your hair. He grabbed hold of your hips with both hands, squeezing your skin roughly as you clenched around the head of his cock, desperate for more; a faint hiss sounded through Eddie’s teeth.

“You want it?” He taunted huskily, holding you tight as you whined in your throat.

“Yes.”

He hummed snidely, enjoying how damn desperate you were, “Work for it, brat.”

Another chill rolled up your spine at the command, your cunt flexing around him. Bracing yourself steadily against the counter, you took an eager breath before sliding back onto Eddie’s girth, ass bouncing up against his hips. The two of you moaned in unison, his cock twitching inside you as you adjusted to his size, walls clenching tightly around him; Eddie’s fingers dug into the meat of your hips, pushing up into you and making you gasp as he hit you nice and deep.

“You missed this cock?” Eddie jeered, not waiting for an answer, “Come on, prove it.”

Dutifully, you pulled your hips forward, the feel of his cock sliding inside you causing another wild moan to leap from your mouth. Hearing Eddie’s own sigh of satisfaction, you eagerly sunk back down on his dick, body bobbing in a needy rhythm as you clung even tighter to the counter.

“That’s right…” Eddie groaned, hands on your hips guiding you up and down his shaft, hips thrusting up to meet yours each time you sunk back; the snap of his hips was just rough enough to make violent moans escape you each time, “You take me so good, baby.”

Spurred by his words, you sped up a little, Eddie’s hands grabbing at your hair, your ass, zealous for your body. The sound of your ass clapping against his hips echoed off the tile, your moans mingling and overlapping with each other. Already, you could feel your thighs burning with exertion, knees growing shaky as your pleasure started to mount once more; god, how pathetic that you were already growing weak again, that you were wobbly with effort and sopping wet with lust.

Feeling a change in your rhythm, Eddie grabbed you tight, bending you over till your chest was flush with the counter; finally, he took charge, beginning to thrust deep inside you with quick, rapid strokes, hands holding you steady.

“What is it, brat, already drunk on this cock?” He teased through clenched teeth, hips slamming harshly into yours as you moaned and panted in response, “Fuck, you take me so good; already about to cum again, dirty slut?”

Just as you thought you were about to topple over the edge, Eddie slowed his violent thrusts, practically laughing at your frustrated groan and your knuckles flexing around the counter’s edge. Eddie rolled his hips cruelly, as if he wanted you to chase after the orgasm that he wasn’t ready to give you just yet.

He grabbed hold of your wrists and pulled them behind your back, shifting them securely into one hand while the other gave your ass a firm slap. As you yelped, Eddie rolled his hips deep and slow against yours.

“Greedy…” His voice was muffled as if speaking with something in his mouth; you gazed up out of the corner of your eye, watching him pop his thumb from between his lips, a thread of drool dripping down as his eyes glinted at you wickedly, “Greedy, greedy brat.”

When Eddie’s thumb teased at your asshole, a profane gasp escaped you. His hips stuttered a moment, pulling nearly all the way out of you as his thumb continued its slow, lecherous circle. You moaned desperately, missing the feel of his girth buried deep inside you, but Eddie refrained from giving you what you wanted, his thumb prodding at your ass. And then abruptly, he sunk into both holes, balls and knuckle deep in tandem, the instant stimulation making you cry out and cum without any warning like some goddamn virgin.

“No, again?” Eddie teased as his thumb massaged inside of you, cock twitching against your tightly clamped walls, “You missed this cock so bad…”

You could barely form words, tongue heavy in your mouth as you breathed out, “So bad, baby…”

“Got off twice already.” Eddie muttered as if to himself, hooking his thumb just to get another gasp out of you, your hips bucking with a shiver. He tugged at your wrists, still held tight in his large hand, and forced you to straighten up, the slowly changing angle making your pussy and ass ache with pleasure. You mewled weakly, feeling Eddie at your back again, face pressed into your messy hair as he breathed you in.

He rolled his hips again oh-so cruelly, his own moan vulgar at the change of angle, rutting his cock that extra bit deeper once he was already buried in you. His rhythm was tantalizing now, thrusting in and out of you as slowly as he could so that you’d both feel each and every little movement; his thumb pumped inside your ass in time with his cock, the sensation of both holes being filled making your eyes cross and your head spin.

“Fuck, baby…” Eddie growled against your ear, the sound making you clench tightly around is cock again, all your senses running haywire from how goddamn overstimulated you were. Your breath ragged and skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat, you began to roll your hips in time with Eddie’s thrusts, practically standing on your toes just to feel his cock hit that spot you loved.

Eddie grunted hungrily as he slid through your slick folds again and again and again, speed picking up with each pump; your gasping and moaning only seemed to encourage him, your breath hitching each time he thrust extra hard into you. His hand around your wrists was so tight that it would’ve hurt were you not preoccupied, his thumb in your ass pushing in and out of you at its own pace, turning your knees to putty. Your legs shook beneath you, and if it weren’t for the way Eddie thrust you forward into the counter, you feared you might sink to the floor.

“Aw, you’re spent.” Eddie whispered devilishly into your ear, his hips slapping harder and faster into you as if it were punishment, “You know I’m not done with you yet.”

You nodded, although you knew it was unnecessary, and Eddie pushed you forward again, holding you just inches above the countertop by your wrists. Abruptly, he pulled his cock clean out of you, causing you to cry out at the loss of it, wet pussy clenching desperately around nothing as the cold bathroom air hit you.

Eddie chuckled behind you, hooking his thumb again and making you throw your head back. Cruelly, he pumped his thumb as deep inside you as it could go, eager mewls falling from your parted lips; you realized you were drooling, but you didn’t care. Eddie’s thumb sped up, making your panting more frantic, your back arched desperately as your toes curled.

“Could bury my cock right in your ass and you’d let me, huh?” Eddie taunted, and you nodded wildly in response. The head of his dick bounced against your ass cheek, goosebumps breaking out across your skin and a pathetic moan rising from your throat in desperation, “Could do whatever I want to you.”

Pushing his thumb nice and deep inside you, Eddie stopped, waiting until you impatiently jutted your ass against his hand. With another low laugh, Eddie removed his thumb and spun you around so quickly that you nearly stumbled, his hands catching you and body immediately pinning you back against the counter.

“No, I’ll save that for next time.” He growled, lips dangerously close to yours again. You could practically taste the sweat on his skin, your breath mingling as his eyes stared into yours; your hands had nearly fallen asleep while Eddie was holding them back, and they tingled as you steadied them atop the counter behind you, “That’s what you want, right? A next time?”

You hummed with an insistent whine, Eddie loving the sight of you messy and practically pleading for more. He squatted down a little so he could hook his hands beneath your quivering thighs, practically throwing you up onto the counter, the lip of the sink digging into your ass. A primal sound rose in Eddie’s throat as he tugged your pants from one of your legs and shoved it up, foot resting atop the counter as he dragged your body closer, nearly falling off the edge if it weren’t for his sturdy grip. He palmed your cunt with a vulgar smirk, leaning in close again.

“Whattaya say, lucky number three?” His hot breath washed across your lips, fingers swirling your clit lazily, his opposite hand pressing firmly against your throat once more.

Eddie’s thick cock nudged at your pussy, thrusting up into you nice and slow as you moaned together. His forehead rested against yours as his hand on your throat tightened, constricting your air just enough that your eyes crossed and your mouth hung open in ecstasy. Bottoming out, Eddie rolled his hips against yours, your pussy clenching around him as you felt another string of drool begin a trail down your lip.

Eddie pulled back enough to watch your face as his hips started slapping into your ass aggressively, his rhythm frantic and cruel and so damn delectable as you rocked atop the counter. Each gasp came out short and high in your throat, the sensation of Eddie’s cock hitting deep making your body tighten like a spring, the feel of his hand at your throat making your eyes roll back into your skull.

He groaned hoarsely, repeating roughly under his breath like a mantra, “So fucking good, so fucking good.”

His eyes were black with desire as they looked into yours, the intensity of his stare making your muscles contract wildly, hips rolling rapidly against his to create even more friction against your clit. Throwing your head back, you moaned unabashedly, and Eddie nipped along the underside of your jaw, fingers tightening even more around your throat; the lack of oxygen was becoming intoxicating, your breaths shorter and hitched as Eddie thrust up into you.

Cock buried nice and deep, Eddie began to rut up that extra bit into you, groaning at the way you clenched tight around him, inarticulate half-words of pleasure slipping past your parted lips. Your combined sounds of ecstasy reverberated off the tile walls, bodies slick with sweat against one another, the cramped room growing hotter and hotter; you gripped the counter even tighter as you curved your hips a little further, immediately mewling as Eddie hit that sweet spot inside you.

Spurred on by your new sounds of pleasure, Eddie’s thrusts grew faster and faster, deeper and deeper, driving you absolutely fucking wild. He used the hand at your throat to dip your head to one side, mouth latching tight to your neck, teeth nipping and lips sucking hard - the slight pain made you yelp eagerly,  excited by the inevitable hickey that was going to form. Knowing that he was getting you close yet again, Eddie reached down to press his fingers to your clit, experting rolling them in stimulating circles; he breathed heavily against your neck, lips hot and wet with spit.

You cried out as another intense orgasm hit you like a crashing wave, your eyes rolling back as your tight body practically quivered from the overwhelming satisfaction you felt from your head down to your goddamn toes. Eddie’s pace didn’t slow even for a second, making your sensitive pussy spasm at the excess pleasure, having to brace yourself tight on the counter so you wouldn’t melt right off it.

Now, Eddie used you like the damn cock sleeve you were, pounding roughly into you as he chased his own orgasm, so, so close that even you could practically taste it. He finally dropped his hand from your throat and gripped the edge of the counter tight so he could ram his cock up into you, his pace rapid and unforgiving; you couldn’t help but smile stupidly at how frantic and desperate he became when he was close, the way you treated your body like a sex toy just so he could get the satisfaction he craved.

“So fucking good, fucking good, fu--”

Eddie’s hips stuttered as he gasped, white knuckling the counter as he shoved himself as deep as he could go, seed spilling inside you; his strained sounds of pleasure made you moan and mewl with bliss. Eddie breathed deeply as his cock twitched inside you, his body weight leaning into yours as he rested his forehead against your neck. You were both sticky and hot, the smell of your sex hanging thick in the air as you both strained to catch your breath.

When Eddie eventually slid out of your pussy, the both of you sighed at the last little bit of stimulation; he took a couple steps back, forcing you to balance yourself on the lip of the counter with limbs that felt like pudding. You looked up at Eddie through your lashes, studying his euphoric expression as you felt his cum begin to seep out of you; his chest heaved deeply as his dark eyes found yours, nearly making you gasp.

As you slowly lowered your wobbly legs until your feet were back on the ground, Eddie pulled his pants back into place, eyeing you up and down like you were a slab of meat and he was still hungry for more even after all that. For a few moments, you simply stood there to regain your balance, Eddie's seed making a slow trail down your thigh; you caught a territorial smirk flash across his face as his eyes followed it down. You began to reach for the towel dispenser, but Eddie snatched your wrist quickly.

“Oh no, you're not cleaning that up.” He sneered wickedly, closing in on you again as he spoke in a low voice, “You're gonna go back out there with my cum soaking your jeans for the rest of the night like the slut you are.”

His words may have made you weak in the knees, but you couldn't help glaring, hot and bothered by the prospect of yet another argument between the two of you, “I got what I came here for - what makes you think I'll be listening to you anymore?”

Eddie leaned in, lips hovering over yours again as he answered huskily, “Because if you listen like a good girl, I'll give you more later.”

The both of you looked at one another with wanton desire, Eddie brushing his thumb along your lower lip before righting himself, stepping back to look at you leeringly again. 

“Now put your clothes on.” He growled, and you quickly followed the instruction.

As Eddie dragged you back out of the bathroom, you could feel eyes glaring at you - the bartender, other patrons, the girl that was supposed to be Eddie's date. You couldn't help but giggle at your predicament, which turned into a full on laugh when Eddie clapped one of the glaring patrons on the shoulder, winking devilishly while guiding you towards the door.

[auspicioustidings]

Kinktober Day 3

Moniker: Keegan Risk Level: Low. Keegan has never been detained and is visiting freely. Brief: Spanking ass, thighs and pussy Safeword: Refer to first brief. Keegan likes handling brats, if you’re nice for him he won’t have much reason to discipline you - Price

“Maybe if you weren’t such a prick you would be able to find a willing partner and not have to use someone who’s being paid for it!”

You had intended to be the sweetest person on the planet when you walked in given Price’s note, but Keegan was the most infuriating man you had ever had the displeasure of meeting.

He had immediately started making comments about the incompetence of the UK military, had wound you right up about how you weren’t a front line soldier, how you were a radio bitch. You fell right into the trap of it obviously.

“Hm. Name calling and yelling? Weren’t those two things I told you I wouldn’t put up with when you walked in here?”

Shit. God damn it. He had indeed went through his rules when you had come in, had said as long as you followed them then there would be no need for discipline.

“Can’t see someone who works in comms to have forgotten so quickly, so I think you want me to spank your ass don’t you?”

“Oh fuck you!” you hissed back.

“Not yet brat, can’t be handing out treats to bad little kittens or they’ll only get worse.”

You glowered at him from your side of the table. The room today was set up like a moody office, no bed in sight, just a big mahogany table with him sat on one side and you on the other. He stood and stalked around behind you, putting a warm hand on your shoulder.

“Now, let’s go ahead and adjust that nasty attitude of yours. Up.”

You should have just stood, you really should have. But he was so fucking smug that you stayed sat right where you were.

“Make me.”

You heard a little chuckle of delight before he hauled your ass out of the chair by your arm and threw you forward so that your chest crashed into the table so fast that you didn’t have enough time to brace and avoid your head bouncing off of it too.

“Wanker!” you hissed through your teeth, your nose in pain but thankfully not broken.

The first smack was over two layers of fabric, your jeans and your panties, but even so it fucking stung and you yelped.

“Such a feisty thing aren’t you?” he cooed as he pushed down against your back with one hand to pin you, got a leg wedged up between yours to have you spread wide enough to not have a good position to fight back against him and used his other hand to start ripping your jeans and panties down.

You tried to twist your body and lash out at him and he smacked your now bare ass so hard that you saw stars. He used the opportunity to wrestle your hands behind your back and pin them there with one of his.

“You’re only hurting yourself kitten, put your claws away and be good and maybe after your punishment I can pet you and make you purr.”

You hated him so much. Even more so when he got your jeans and panties pushed down to your just above your knees and left them there, the position humiliating in a way that had your face flaming with heat.

“Ready? Remember you brought this upon yourself.”

The few spanks to your ass had stung, but it was bearable. Your body found them exciting even if your brain was screaming how much it hated him, but you thought that it was sort of like you were getting your own back if you were actually enjoying his stupid punishment.

“Sure, go ahead with your punishment” you said, sounding more a brat than you had ever been in your life.

You hadn’t expected it and he certainly hadn’t given you any warning that he wasn’t aiming for your ass with this one. The flat of his hand came down hard and fast on your cunt and your screamed bloody murder. He hadn’t come down right on your clit, but it was throbbing from the abuse none the less.

The next few swots were much the same and you realised just seconds before he wound back for the next one what he had been doing. He knew all of this was making your clit start to swell, that your body was getting mixed signals so was getting wet to cover all eventualities and sending all the blood between your legs. And when your clit was a nice, shiny, swollen target for him that’s when he changed angle and brought his next slap right down on it.

You fucking howled and he gave an exaggerated sigh of disappointment.

“Now kitten, take your punishment like a good girl instead of like a little bitch would you? The more you bitch the more I’m going to have to give you to settle you down, but then maybe that’s why you’re being this way huh? That pretty pussy so eager for my hand?”

God you throbbed. It was like a red hot pulse between your legs and you were rapidly deflating of all of your confidence to go against him. Something about how fucking condescending he was began to have the opposite effect than usual - instead of it making you want to fight him and argue, it was sort of making you want to submit and please him enough that he was nice to you instead.

“C’mon kitty kitty, tell me what’s going on in that pretty head.”

“I’ll take it” you mumbled.

“What’s that? Speak up kitty.”

“I’ll take the punishment like a good girl.”

Fuck this was so humiliating.

“I’ll take the punishment like a good girl what?”

He truly was the worst. You considered telling him to get fully fucked, but he saw that you needed a little coaxing and rubbed his hand on your sore cunt. It was both the promise of something delicious and the warning of something painful.

“I’ll take the punishment like a good girl, sir” you said, squeezing your eyes shut and wanting to sink into the void with the embarrassment of knowing that not only were you being punished for being a mouthy brat, but that Price was watching it all on cameras.

“Better. These ones you’ll count.”

He landed a smack on your ass and despite it burning, it was a relief from the ones levelled against your cunt.

“One, sir.”

“Manners kitten. Say thank you.”

“…thank you sir.”

“Thank you for what?”

“Thank you for punishing me sir.”

“Hm, not sure it is a punishment” he said, smug as anything when he swiped two fingers through your slit and then made you suck you arousal off of them. “But it will be.”

He really started giving it to you. Smack after smack, aimed to sting the most and continually changing so you never knew what to expect so couldn’t brace. Your body was jerking violently with every hard crack to your ass and thighs and by the time you reached 20 you were sobbing the numbers at him incoherently, crying out your thank yous.

“Shh kitty, you did so well. Do you think you need more?”

“N-no sir, please I’ll be good. I’m a good kitten. Your good kitten. U-unless you think I need more, I don’t mean to be a brat and say I don’t if I do” you whimpered.

It was so strange how he had you floating, had you fully pliant and desperate to please him and earn praise. Hadn’t you hated his guts not half an hour ago?

“Well Price, you think one more then I can pet her?” Keegan asked to the room.

There were two beeps in answer and you could sob from the relief. One beep was a warning, two must be an affirmative. Just one more. Your pussy was sopping wet and everything was on fire, but just one more.

He hauled your onto your back and without any preamble wound his hand back behind his head and brought it down brutally hard on your cunt. Maybe you screamed, you weren’t entirely sure, the next thing you knew you were in Keegan’s lap and he was petting your pussy.

“There she is. You never thanked me for the last one kitten, but I’m feeling indulgent so going to let you purr for me anyway.”

You did. Some approximation of a purr rattled out of you as he kept petting his pussy. Later he smothered you with cream that he said would help with the bruising, but you were pretty sure it was going to hurt anytime you sat down for the foreseeable future.

-

Well then. Price had certainly learned something about you today. He really had to start being vigilant instead of furiously wanking off during these sessions.

[love-quinn]

— COMING OF AGE

summary — dave’s had a crush on you since he could remember, but he’d driven you away with his superhero duties. you’re the TA of his class and he’s determined to get it right this time

pairing — college!dave lizewski x reader

track two — “coming of age” by maisie peters

warnings — none i think

word count — 1.7k

note — atj i am free whenever you wanna hang out i have a great home we can place your wife in don't worry about it she'll be fine. kick ass is lowkey one of my guilty pleasure movies, one of my friends watched it a few months ago and told me she'd never watch it again as long as she lived but she just didn't get it like i do </3 this hasn't been edited because i wrote all of it while waiting for my shift to start and i'm not about that life, but i hope u enjoy <33333

When you spend years acting as a quasi-superhero, moving away feels weird. Dave had never had so much time in years. He was pretty sure that wasn’t how most people felt upon starting college, but he was relieved that the worst thing he had to deal with was midterms.

Dave liked being Kick-Ass, sure. It had been his decision to become a superhero after all. But it was kind of nice being able to just be normal for a bit. He had Todd keeping tabs on things back home, he was doing alright in his classes, and he’d even made some friends. So far college was looking like more of a social success than high school had been.

That was how he ended up in a stranger’s living room on a Thursday night, music blaring from the speakers and a drink of something in his hand. He’d been chatting to a girl from one of his classes when Dave realised that he’d never learned how to flirt. Katie had been attracted to him once she found out he was Kick-Ass, and his only other romantic experience had… left a lot to be desired.

It hadn’t been your fault. You had been effortlessly lovely from the second Dave had laid eyes on you, but it’s hard to find time to woo a girl when you’re constantly getting the shit beaten out of you for no meaningful reason. You were a year older than him, and he’d known that getting a senior girl to even look at him was an accomplishment.

Todd and Marty had assured him that he was annoying you, but you’d thought he was kind of sweet. A guy who was utterly obsessed with you but in an endearing way rather than a creepy way (he was a little creepy, you had to admit) was good for your confidence, and you couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t cute.

Then he’d blown you off two separate times after you’d finally agreed to go on a date with him and from that day on Dave was dead to you.

Which is why he didn’t hesitate to abandon the girl he’d been attempting to chat up the moment he caught a glimpse of you pushing through a group of people to get to the kitchen. He didn’t even process her calling him a dickhead, he was too locked in on your profile.

You were pouring yourself a cup of something from a bottle on the counter, listening absent-mindedly to the girl beside you babble about something her boyfriend had done when you finally noticed his presence.

He’d expected some more of a reaction than a deep sigh and a halfhearted wave, but you weren’t yelling at him so he took that as a win.

“How are you?”

You took a gulp of whatever you’d poured yourself and immediately set about refilling your cup. “Fine.” You tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. “I didn’t know you went here.”

He frowned at the side of your face. “Here like… parties?”

You’d downed your second cup and were half-way through pouring a third when he realised that the bottle in your hand was lemonade, his concern melting. “Here like on campus,” you said. “You’re a freshman?”

He nodded. “Yeah,” you were different than the last time he’d seen you. Your hair was different, you’d changed the way you dressed, and the last time you’d spoken to him you’d smiled sweetly at him like the sun shone out of his mouth. “You’re a sophomore?”

You nodded, already looking past him for someone else to talk to. “I should go, my friends are probably looking for me.” You put the cup down but kept your hand wrapped around the neck of the bottle. “It was nice seeing you, Dave.”

Dave figured that was it. Fate had delivered you right into his lap and the first thing you’d done was claw him in the eyes to get away. Dave had often known that he didn’t understand you a lot of the time, but this time it was clear. He’d thought about you pretty often since the last time he saw you, but he just had to accept the fact that you wanted nothing to do with him.

He deliberately avoided places that he saw you around campus, not wanting you to think he wasn’t backing off. Now that he’d seen you around for the first time, you were everywhere. He wasn’t sure how many times he’d frequented the campus coffee shop without realising that you worked there, but now he couldn’t ignore it. Apparently you had a lot of lectures in the same building, which meant you probably overlapped professors once or twice. He’d gone to see one of them about their office hours and seen you sitting across from her through the window.

He felt like he’d done pretty well until he came back from Christmas break and walked into his first class of the second semester. His professor was one he’d had during the fall semester, but you were off to the side at a smaller desk. He’d found his assigned seat (second row, perfect view of you, not that it mattered), and settled in for the 90 minute lecture. His professor introduced himself and then gestured to you, introducing you as his TA. You’d smiled at the room, giving a small wave. You did not look at him.

You looked tired but pretty in a comfortable sweater and a soft smile, and Dave realised that much to his dismay he would not be able to pay attention to a single word his professor was saying.

He didn’t plan to utilise your willingness to help, his professor’s office hours were sufficient without him needing to use yours. As much as he didn’t want to, he had every intention of leaving you alone.

This worked out well enough until he missed a class and his professor had given his copy of the last week’s quiz to you to hold onto until Dave came back. His professor seemingly noticed the hesitation on his face after he’d been instructed to stop by the classroom during your “office hours” to collect it from you, because he clapped Dave on the shoulder. “She’s not as scary as she looks,” he’d said comfortingly. Dave didn’t believe him.

But he needed the quiz to study for their next test, so he put on his big boy pants and went down into the empty classroom. You were sitting cross-legged on top of your desk, a paper balanced on one of your knees and a highlighter in your hand, probably marking one of his classmates’s revised papers for a better grade - a concept Dave appreciated but had never utilised for fear of bothering you. He’d wanted it to be clean and easy, he’d grab his quiz, you could go back to pretending like he never existed.

When he approached your desk, you glanced up at him and Dave almost folded in two when you smiled at him. “Here for your quiz?”

There was a folder on the desk that you rifled through before pulling out his stapled quiz. With a pang in his chest he realised you’d been the one to mark it. Seeing your handwriting near his name made him breathless in a way that saddened him slightly.

“This is your second job, right?” He didn’t know why he’d opened his big mouth instead of just taking the quiz from you. You nodded, looking back at the paper you were marking. He’d thought a lot about what he’d say to you if given the opportunity to actually speak to him. Something along the lines of an apology, a confession of sorts, something that would make you stop disliking him so much. That was not what he’d imagined. “Makes sense.”

You looked at him blankly. “Thanks?”

Dave took that as an opening. “I mean if anyone was an overachiever it was you,” he tried to keep his tone light. “You’re amazing, I mean. I couldn’t do everything you do. I mean,” he looked down at his shirt, an old Atari shirt that had aioli on the hem.

“You are a mess,” you inferred, voice not unkind. “You’re more put together than you were in high school. Better at expressing yourself, at least.” His face must have betrayed his surprise, because you amended yourself. “I read all your papers, Dave.”

He brought a hand up to scratch the back of his neck. “I’ve been working on it since we knew each other,” he admitted. “On that and not being such an asshole who bails on the girl he’d had a crush on for three years.”

You snickered, low and soft, looking down at your lap. You looked tired again and he felt an ache when he remembered how full of life you used to be. “I’m sure that’ll come in handy.”

“I’m sorry.” He had to push the words out, knowing he was running out of time to actually apologise to you. “I made you feel like you weren’t important to me, which isn’t true.”

Dave had never told you, but he’d blown off the first date because he’d been getting patched up by Mindy after getting the shit kicked out of him by a group of guys he’d caught trying to rob a gas station. The second time he’d walked the same route and had chanced across the same guys who beat him up again for having the audacity to exist on the same street as them. He’d held his own fairly well but there had been six of them, and even his superhero skills and damaged nerves couldn’t keep him standing after the second altercation. He didn’t want to drag you into his shit, though, which was a good idea considering a month later he got dragged into the mob. Fortunately for you and unfortunately for him, you were done with him by that point and then before he knew it you’d graduated and left for college.

You looked at him softly, nodding slowly. “I appreciate that.” He figured that would be where the conversation ended, and turned to leave. “What other classes are you taking?”

It wasn’t a lot, but he figured it was better than nothing.

[planete777]

NO IDEA・⁠｡♪ LN4

( lando norris x fem!reader )

IN WHICH. y/n and lando can't get enough of each other, even when another person is present (based on this ask)

WARNINGS. 18+, MINORS DNI!, starring max fewtrell, y/n and lando get too horny for him so he dips lol, pwp, lil bit of smoke play??, unprotected p in v sex, doggy style, riding, missionary, lil dirty talk, smoking while fucking, guys this is just filth pt. 2

NOTE. so uhm.. im lowkey shitting out fics,,, two works in one day??? WOW. this is what the summer holidays does to me lolll. i wasn't supposed to be writing this BUT anon slipped into my inbox with this ask and my brain couldn't hold back (i mean... it is high!lando) so enjoy lmao <33 also, once again, dividers are not mine, credit to the rightful owners

the smoke alone that painted the room a misty white was in intense abundance. y/n could barely see more than a foot ahead of her, where max lay, body completely at the mercy of the heavens and sprawled like a dead man upon the couch. lando, sticky, hot body beside her, is just as faded, breaths so evened out, it's almost as if he's subject to a comatosed state.

y/n never knew max smoked, fucking weed for that matter. always seems to be the unsuspecting ones that let themselves undulate upon the highs of drugs, mouth puffing out smoke like that's all it can do. it was peculiar, and a slight bit awkward, when he had asked her to toss a joint, but she did so without questioning.

now, here they were, all three of them, polluting the air more than any manual vehicle could and filling their lungs with the acrid stench of weed that dragged a nip of addiction that none of them bothered to care about.

"man, i could do this everyday," max says, examining the spliff in his hand as if it was something so wonderful. y/n laughs and shakes her head, "nah, it may be good and all, but set limits for yourself."

he hums back, most likely too dazed to care about her cautions, and goes in for another drag. lando drags out a sigh as the smoke trickles out of his mouth like white silk.

"you good baby?"

lando nods, reaching a hand out to rest it on y/n's thigh, "yeah i just," it slides further up, with a trail of heat following as he leans into her ear and whispers lewdly, "wanna fuck you so bad."

she giggles and takes a long, burning drag of her own, blowing the vapour into lando's face.

thing is, lando is horny high. there's never a time where they smoke together and not fuck, but she doesn't ever complain because it's hot, sweaty sex that leaves them buzzing with satiation and wrapped in thick air of smoke mixed with the smell of what they'd done just seconds before.

y/n thought that lando had set aside that urge for the night, considering the additional presence with them, but he just doesn't give two fucks, and that alone makes her skin crawl with need.

his lips are licking sloppy kisses into her neck, targeting where he knows she'll let go, and her mouth opens limply, leaking with moans and sighs.

"fucking hell, mate— while i'm here?" max's incredulous voice punches out, and he swings his legs off the couch.

"you can leave, max," lando remarks dismissively, dick growing too hard, too fast. he slots the spliff into his mouth, inhaling so much that his eyes roll back, before dragging y/n into a messy, heated kiss. it's more of clashing tongues and teeth, smoke weaving through their skins.

the door slamming completely detonates lando, pushing y/n unto her back before stripping her leggings off, panties and all. a wisp of coolness breezes past her bare pussy, and she moans lightly, sucking in her spliff and letting go into the air.

"such a pretty pussy for me," lando slurs, grinning loopily as his eyes hang low and red. his thumb presses into her clit, forcing her back to arch as he rubs it hard and slow.

"fuck lando, keep going."

she can hear how her cunt squelches with his tamed movements, making her pussy throb, practically beckoning him closer. he leans in, blowing a puff of smoke unto her clit before completely attaching his mouth and sucking like he's fucking pussy drunk.

y/n brings a hand to his head, pressing and grinding into his mouth, swivelling her hips with desperation. it feels like heaven, paired with the warm electricity that thrums through her joints from the weed, and she just wants more and more and more.

lando's going feral at her pussy, pushing so deep into her that his nose pokes at her clit and stimulates it beautifully. his hands, spliff still between his fingers and spilling out threads of smoke, push her thighs up to her chest, bulging out her cunt more as it drips like a watering mouth.

"i could eat your pussy forever," he speaks into her pussy as she moans loudly, barely able to bring the joint up to her mouth.

he stops abruptly, evoking a whine from the lips of his girlfriend as he wedges the spliff in his mouth and unties the knot of his shorts, dragging it down. his dick immediately slaps against his abdomen, pulsating and flushed deep red, and he slowly jerks it off from the base all the way to the swollen tip.

"just fuck me, lan'," y/n exasperates, and he relents, pushing all the way in. their mouths drop as they release sighs of relief. y/n relishes in the way her pussy throbs with his dick, clenching and unclenching around him, causing lando to hiss.

"don't do that y/n, i don't wanna cum yet."

he wraps a leg around his waist before pulling back and completely drilling back into her cunt. his cock rakes against the muscles delicious, and y/n can feel every ridge and dip of his dick. her toes curl, eyes rolling as she inhales another drag, blowing out punctuated puffs of smoke as a result of lando's hips slapping against hers.

it's agonisingly snail-paced, but so deep that it compensates greatly for it and all she can do is lay there, all pretty, and take his cock.

lando attaches his lips unto her glimmering collar bones, riding her shirt up with his hands before latching unto her nipple. his tongue slurps and flicks at the skin, making y/n moan and squirm drunkenly.

then lando suddenly flips her unto her hands and knees and stops.

"hold your pussy open for me baby," he pants out, "need a couple drags."

her hands go behind her to spread her pussy apart, swollen, wet and gaping open for lando. he doesn't waste anymore time to slide his dick inside, thrusts just like before, but even deeper, and the girl is completely thoughtless. he smokes with much efficiency now, pushing and pulling his hips alone as his fingers work the spliff between his lips. pleasure from sex and being high sits heavily and perfectly in his limbs, head thrown back as he gradually lets y/n meet his thrusts.

"you're fucking yourself on my cock so well baby," lando moans, slapping a hand against her buttcheek as both their movements grow stuttered.

"i'm gonna cum, lan'— shit."

he feels her walls tighten before she lets go, mouth dribbling with airy sighs and groans as her hands fall to the sofa. lando is still on high, eager to feel y/n for longer and so he's switching their positions, the girl sitting on his thighs as his back rests against the sofa.

"ride me y/n."

"lan'," she goes to protest but doesn't, crawling up unto his dick and sinking down so smoothly and warmly, that lando loses all feeling in his legs.

he watches her bounce and grind on his cock, blowing smoke up into her face as she smiles and revels in the warm air. she looks so filthily unreal, high but so fucking horny for his dick, and he looks at her for so long without blinking that his eyes begin to burn.

"lan' i can't, i'm gonna cum," her thighs are shaking, siphoning trembles through his skin. he grins, slaps her ass teasingly, and tells her to let it go.

liquid trickles down his dick as he shoots his cum into her cunt, high pitched moans tumbling out of her as she's consumed by the high before flopping down unto lando.

"you did so well, baby."

[danikamariewrites]

hi there, can you write something fluffy for fenrys??

Book Delivery

Fenrys x reader

A/n: I haven't written for Fen in so long and he's literally one of my favs from ToG. He deserves happiness after everything he's been through

Warnings: none

Fenrys watched from the balcony as Aelin walked you through the castle gates. He lets out a dreamy sigh as you throw your head back from laughing at something the queen said. Fenrys was so lost in his little fantasy land he missed Rowan come to stand next to him.

“You feeling ok?” Fenrys jumps, backing away from the railing and clutching at his heart. “Good gods! Don’t do that Rowan!” The king couldn’t help the shit eating grin that spread across his lips. Rowan looks out at your retreating figure as you leisurely walk back to town. “Aelin thinks you two would make a great match.”

Fenrys lets out an annoyed huff, taking his piercing gaze off of Rowan and watching you again. He was always so charming and smooth when it came to talking to females. For some reason when he tried speaking to you Fenrys always made a fool of himself. He either tripped over air or fumbled with his words before excusing himself. There was no other way to say it, Fenrys is in love with you.

How could he not be? You’re so kind and intelligent and beautiful. Fenrys can’t help but feel butterflies in his stomach when you’re around.

A week later - on the day you usually visit, Fenrys noted - Aelin called him into her office. Striding through the open door Fenrys stopped before her desk, sketching a bow before standing with his hands behind his back. “What can I do for you?” Aelin gave him a smile that told Fenrys she was scheming. Fenrys mentally rolled his eyes, waiting for Aelin to tell her plan.

“I need you to do me a favor.” She said sweetly. “Nothing crazy, just an errand that I can’t get to today.” Fenrys nodded. “What kind of errand?” The queen’s smile became toothy and far too happy looking for his liking. “Can you go to y/n’s store for me and pick up the book she set aside for me?”

Fenrys felt his heart stutter in his chest. He had never been to your store. He had avoided it at all costs after the second time he made a fool of himself in front of you. “Erm…” He had to answer quickly before Aelin turned this into a command and he no choice. Not like he had one anyway. If Aelin already thought you two were a match the whole court must know by now. And Fenrys would never hear the end of it from Lysandra if he never made a move.

“Yes.” He blurts out. “Excellent.” Aelin claps her hands in approval and stands to guide Fenrys from her office. “And no rush whatsoever. Take your time, enjoy a stroll through the city. Get some tea with someone. But don’t come back here without my book.” She said sternly before shutting the door on him.

Upon entering the bustling city Fenrys found himself taking the long way to your shop. Inevitably he found himself standing outside your shop, dreading how he would mess up this conversation with you. Inhaling deeply through his nose and out through his mouth, Fenrys pushed open the door to your shop.

The bell ringing above his head caught your attention immediately. You rushed to the front of the store, your arms full of books. Your eyes widen in surprise at the tall male in the middle of your small book store. “Hi,” you say cheerily, “Fenrys, right?” It took all of his training to keep calm. To keep the butterflies from swarming his insides.

“Y-yes. Yup, that’s me.” Dear gods he hoped Lorcan would show up and stab him.

Then you did something unexpected. You giggled at him. It wasn’t a pity laugh, you genuinely giggled. Fenrys smiled at you. Realizing you looked like you were about to drop the stack of books in your arms Fenrys cleared the space between you, reaching his hands out to help. “Can I take these for you?” “Oh, yes. That would be great, thank you.”

As you handed over half the stack Fenrys noticed your hands were shaking. If it was because of him he wouldn’t be able to live with himself. The last thing he wanted to do was scare you. You cleared your throat before speaking again. “Can you put them on the front counter?” “Of course.” You give him a small nod and lead him to the counter.

After putting the books down you nervously fiddled with your hair, glancing at Fenrys every other second. You felt like you always messed up when you spoke to him. That awkward laugh would always leave your lips and you always forgot where you were going when you bumped into him in the castle.

Clearing your throat you finally look make eye contact. Maybe that’s too much eye contact, you think to yourself. Fenrys isn’t shying away though. If anything he’s looking at you with the same shy, unsure intensity.

An awkward moment of silence passes between the two of you before Fenrys finally remembers why he’s here. “Aelin sent me to pick up her book. She said you had it set aside for her.”

The realization clicked in your eyes and your cheeks redden. It was silly to think he was there for you. Pulling the book from the shelf behind you and turning back to Fenrys you give him a small smile, hoping it didn’t look as sad as you felt. “Here you go.” His fingers brushed against yours. You felt a warmth rush through your body at the soft touch.

Your cheeks heat even more as you bite back your smile. Fenrys takes the book giving you a reassuring smile. “Thanks,” he says softly. “You’re welcome.” He nods and turns to leave. Fenrys cringes at himself, squeezing his eyes shut.

He stopped with his hand on the door, thinking screw it. Marching back up to the counter Fenrys takes a deep breath. You look up at him with bright curiosity in your eyes. “Would you like to go out to dinner with me?”

You nod your head excitedly. “I would love that. Is tomorrow night ok?” “Absolutely.” You give him a bright smile. Taking out a pen and paper you write down your address for him. He takes it happily and practically skips out of your store back to the castle.

[trans-queen-administrator]

Taylor being paranoid about her passenger is such a fun character trait. Like none of her friends really seemed to give much of a shit when they learned about passengers from Bonesaw, but Taylor consistently notes the times her passenger acted without her consent, she tries to talk with it, communicate with it, just anything to learn what this thing that can control her without her say wants with her. One of my favorite little details is that during the timeskip this was the focus of a lot of her therapy sessions with Yamada, trying methods like hypnosis to communicate. I think part of it is that she's inherently just paranoid about the fact that this thing is helping her sometimes and she doesn't know why and she HAS to figure it out because no one would help out of the kindness of their heart, and another part is just that she can't bear to not be in control and this is something that threatens that in a very ominous way.

Another aspect of her paranoia towards her passenger is that she doesn't want to take blame for her own actions I think. During the Behemoth fight when her ally tried to shoot Phil Sē, she pulled the gun off target with silk and got him killed. She's the one who pulled the string, but because she's genuinely unsure if it was her being wary or her passenger setting up the string she settles on the second option because it absolves her of the possible blame or need to admit she's paranoid and ready to betray people in an instance. When Glenn shows her the video of her being the most terrifying fucker in existence she ignores how horrifying she is and fixated on how her passenger moved her, and then she doesn't have to think about the fact that she'd fit right into the ranks of the Slaughterhouse Nine because well, she can blame her passenger and focus on that instead. This applies to other people too, she sees Lung not using his power and thinks that maybe he's concerned about his passenger like she is. She projects hard onto Sophia in my opinion when she says that she got violent because of her passenger. If this person she doesn't like isn't to blame for everything she inflicted on Taylor, the surely Taylor can't be blamed for the violent steps she took to take over a city. It's another way she rationalizes everything to herself, if something is so bad that she can't justify it immediately there's always the excuse of "my passenger made me do it." But crucially, Taylor ends up being aware of the fact that she's doing this during Gold Morning.

And I think it's really good that this is something she grows and accepts about herself. It's wonderful growth for a character who's so often too stubborn to move herself forward. She's generally more in touch with her passenger during Gold Morning, like the time when she thinks that her and her passenger were in agreement in wanting to hurt Scion on the oil rig. No one else in Worm really seems to accept their passengers, Riley is questioning how much of herself has been subsumed by it, Eidolon is always annoyed it doesn't give what he wants, and most other people don't even know about them. But Taylor forms a bit of a symbiosis with hers after a long time rejecting it at every turn. I think this quote really sums up her feelings towards the end.

And by towards the end I mean like, at the very end, because immediately after this thought she becomes Khepri, and yet another fucking theme and character trait cumulates and reaches its peak with Speck. God damn what a good arc. The blur between Taylor and her passenger that she always feared is finally an actual thing consuming her, and she can finally communicate with her passenger as well. I do wonder what this is like on her passengers end. It's clearly down for the idea of killing its maker, and it's heavily implied that her passenger does care and doesn't want to actually leave Taylor as a husk (too lazy to get the quote because I've been typing for 45 minutes but Contessa remarks upon the administrator claiming everything about her until there's nothing left and she feels fear that she thinks is from both her and her passenger. 30.7 I think, near the end). But there's still so much about Taylor's passenger that's unknown. Was communication something it may have wanted when Taylor kept trying to communicate, but doing so required punching holes in the connection that would lead to more bleed through and functionally destroy its host? Did it slowly grow to care for Taylor more than the cycle, or was it always wanting to fight Scion? Did Taylor's autistic swag convince a multidimensional alien made of crystal to rebel? Is Queen Administrator trans? Idk how to end this post if it's not obvious, sorry.

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

That you Keep

Author’s note: More Random shit. So- Malum Caedo in Boltgun was all like "I shall finish what Captain Titus Started!!" and that was adorable, for a Veteran Murder Machien of a Man. And like. Titus and Malum meeting in Space Marine 2 would be great since, clearly, he adored his Captain.

Summary: Veteran Sternguard Malum Caedo hears tell of his previous Captain, now Lieutenant Titus having survived and returned back to the Ultramarines.

Warnings: Smut. NSFT. uh... let me know if you need me to add anything here? Thanks y'all!

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams

Tagged: @sleepyfan-blog, @ms--lobotomy , @thevoidscreams, @i-am-a-dragon34, @gra93fruit-blog

He had been walking from one part of the ship to the other when he'd heard some of the younger brothers who'd been initially created as Primaris Marines complain about their new Officer.

Gadriel complaining to Chairon about Lt. Titus, Malum paused and looked at his younger brothers in the Second Company and asked if they meant Demetrian Titus- and asked them certain questions about the identity of this Demetrian Titus.

Realizing that the Demetrian Titus that they are talking about is his Demetrian Titus has him asking them where he could find their Lt. They are a little taken back about his questions and vehemence, but they told him.

He thanked the younger brothers for telling him all of this as he headed to where Titus, his Demetrian is. Part of why he'd taken the Graia mission all those long years ago was to see if he could recover his body, since he had been told that Titus had died on that mission.

Part of him thought that had been a lie, and he's glad to know that his instincts on such a thing were correct. His Demetrian turns when he called out his name softly, a smile soft and gentle appears on Titus's face, if a little cautious.

Malum pulls of his helmet, "I am so glad that you are alive Metri."

"You thought I was dead?" Titus asks.

"Yes," Malum says, "Stars above, I have missed you, I had grieved your loss. I am glad that you have returned to us."

Something colder and harder in Demetrian's eyes softens and warms at that. An almost sparkle of something flashes in the other's eyes as he strides towards Malum as they move closer towards one another.

Malum reaches out and grabs one of Demetrian's arms who clasps his hand back as they tug each other lightly into a deep embrace. Titus notes out loud, "You feel stronger."

"Indeed- the benefits of crossing the Rubicon Primaris, successfully," Malum says proudly, "You too- seem stronger."

"I have also crossed the Rubicon Primaris," Titus says, pausing a little, "Did you choose to cross, or was it that or being turned into a Dreadnaught or death?"

"I chose to try to Cross the Rubicon," Malum says, "... What about you?"

"... Chapter Master Calgar chose for me to cross the Rubicon." Titus says.

"Ah, you are not the only Captain that our wonderful Chapter Master has decided such medical decisions for." Malum says quietly, lowly, "I have missed you, so much."

"I have missed you deeply Mal," Titus says as he lightly tugs his fellow turned-Primaris Marine with him to his private rooms.

Malum follows him eagerly as they go into Titus's room, Demetrian lets go of his hand for a moment and goes to his armor stand and hits the quick release button on his armor and steps out of it.

Malum follows suit with his own armor and within a blink of an eye, Titus is upon him. A clash of lips, tongue, and the clack of teeth as they press kisses and touches, desperate fingers touch and tease their paramor's skin and body.

"I have missed you, all these long, lonely years," Malum whispers, moaning into Titus's lips.

"Never chose another to bed?" Titus asks, half surprised, half pleased.

"None could compare to you," Malum said with a shake of his head, honest in his words as they continue to kiss and touch.

Demetrian presses his fingers to Malum's lips and he opens his mouth eagerly as he sucks on the other's fingers- helping lubricate them as Titus teases their cocks, by rubbing them against each other.

Malum groans in pleasure and the delicious friction as Titus flips Malum over and pulls his fingers away as he stretches Malum open with his fingers.

The pain and pleasure run up his spine in equal measure as he pleads, "Titus- fuck me, Please."

"In a bit, love, In a bit," Titus murmurs, "It's been a century for us both, love."

Malum whines a little at that and grinds his backside against Titus' fingers and cock. He hides a little smirk as he hears Titus's swearing of pleasure and the way the other picks up the pace on stretching him.

The feeling Titus's other hand lightly smacking his ass in punishment only enhancing the pain-pleasure-need-desire and he groans in pleasure as Titus pulls his fingers out of him.

He whines at the loss and Titus chuckles a little as he thrusts in, he had wanted to do so slowly. But the hot, tight feeling of Malum around him. Fuck it really has been so long. Has him thrusting all the way in fast.

Damn. This new body of his really is an upgrade. Stronger, faster, it's impressive. As he presses biting kisses into Malums neck and shoulder as he starts to thrust in and out of him.

Malum eagerly matching his pace rolling his hips and groaning in pleasure, while Titus groans in pleasure and murmurs filthy praise. It's embarrassingly quick how fast he cums, but is pleased that Malum doesn't take long to cum either.

[scentedpepper]

Hiiii I really liked ur recent lip fic so I had a request if it interests u :) it's probably pretty basic actually

Lip x male reader where reader is basically struggling to find a decent job because they're falling behind on bills so they become over stressed/overwork by their current shit job. This being something Lip can relate to he tries to comfort them/tries to get them to relax. (Totally not self reflecting haha 🧍🏻)

Fish.

LIP GALLAGHER X MALE READER

Summary: Lip knows when you're right and when you're wrong.

Content Warnings: None

AUTHOR NOTE(S):

Hey Anon 😼

Totally doable request

Gets a little angsty there for a sec cus I can't not put angst in my fics but yk

This has got to be the mushyest thing on my page so hopefully it's alright (^-^;

Allusiveness per usual..

The self projection is so real..

I'm glad you liked my last fic and I hope you find something that works for you soon tho!!

---------------------------------------------------

Fish.

That's the smell that immediately hits Lip upon entrance into the little studio apartment you call home.

Your cat stares at him, big eyed and blinking slowly from the peeled leather sofa with a blanket draped over it to hide the tweaks and imperfections of a Craigslist bought Lazy Boy.

If the boy was none the wiser, he'd assumed your place had been ransacked, burglarized and left with nothing but items not worth taking a second glance at. Though, it wouldn't be a half bad guess given that your front door was left open and there were clothes and trash strewn about the creaky floors, some of your furniture knocked out of place or even right on its side.

But he could hear you shuffling around the bathroom, knocking something over, the clatter of it to the floor, the less than enthusiastic curse from you and an internal groan that sounded like a hog dying as you bent down to pick it up.

–He wasn't sure how he'd heard that last one.

Intuition, perhaps.

Sheer connection, even.

But he wouldn't delve too much into that concept.

Despite the reality of its contents.

A sigh escapes him, he thinks, maybe one of these days, your recklessness will get you killed. But who is he to speak?

He locks the door from the inside before abandoning his shoes at the entryway, a task you never fail to stress upon to any guest who decides to stop in your home.

The cat is now perched comfortably on the end of your mattress, yawning and stretching as he makes sense of the newcomer in his house that just so happens to be intimately close with his owner.

Lip glances at his feet as he steps into the middle of the walkway, there's holes in his socks right where his toes protrude and they'd gone through their fair share of stitching and needless patching to keep them from slipping off his feet and turning into giant floppy gray lint brushes at his ankles.

Two people, similar living situations and yet two vastly different attitudes toward it.

He tries not to focus on that particular line of thought while he tucked his hands into his front pockets and rocked back and forth on his heels until you shut the bathroom door with a slam.

You're a sight for sore eyes, hair a disheveled mess, sunken in tired eyes, wearing nothing more than boxers, a white tee halfway up your arms when you pause abruptly at the sight of him.

"Hey. “

He finally acknowledges with a little side-smirk that immediately makes you feel a way that's contradictory to every single negative emotion running wild in your head.

You look at him quizzically, pulling your head through your shirt so you could breathe through the collar and clear away some of the exhaust building up after you tugged at your own hair like a horse suffering from some sort of brain-storm induced illness.

"Door was open. " He states the obvious, just to ease the awkward silence beginning to swallow you up.

In response, your eyebrows raise, tugging at your facial features and making your frown look even more drawn, and weary as your lips, that had seen better days, curl up in such a subtle, effortless smile that Lip fails to suppress his immediate burning response.

It's an ironic smile, but it charms your features nonetheless.

“Yeah.. I-” You clear your throat all the sudden, your sentence falling off into a mumble as you grab your hair before releasing it, only succeeding at making it less than structured. Your eyes dart around the room, suddenly aware of the chaos surrounding you. “Been busy. “

You move past him with rushed steps, partially knocking into the broom leant up against the wall, it clatters to the floor loudly behind you.

Lips eyes follow your frantic movement, tracking you as you stumble past him. The broom punctuates the silence like an exclamation point and he notices your cat jumping up out of his peripheral.

He doesn't move to pick it up. Instead, he stands there, hands still in his pockets as he watches you fumble with a stack of envelopes on the counter. He sees the tremble in your fingers despite the effort to suppress it, the tips pushing deep into the thick, yellow colored paper with bold, red text emblazoned on them.

“You know, “ Lip starts, voice low and measured, “I've got a pretty good idea about what those are. “

He steps over the broom, careful not to crowd you, the air between the two of you feeling heavy and charged.

Your shoulders tense at his words, a barely perceptible flinch. For a moment, the only sound is the soft padding of your cat's paws as he slinks away.

"Yeah?" Your voice is strained, almost challenging, but there's an underlying note of relief. Of being seen.

Lip's gaze drifts from the envelopes to the deep bags under your eyes, the knit in your brow, the stain in the creases of your face, to the worn-out shoes by the door, to the empty fridge humming in the corner. He finally settles back on you, confliction in the seas of his eyes.

“Look, “ he starts, then pauses, rubbing the back of his neck. You feel him get closer to you, his warmth invading your senses at once and you have to close your eyes at it.

He takes another step, less than half, not quite touching. An invitation, not a demand.

Your fingers trace the edge of the envelope as your mind blanks, for once. The paper's supposed to be rough, you know that, but you can hardly feel it with the way your fingers have calloused with the grime and weight of construction. You battle with your instincts, not moving an inch, freezing at his non touch touch.

“I have some extra cash from–”

“No. “

It's immediate. You don't think and your body instantly makes flee from him, the sizzling of the fake fish on the stovetop re-registering in your mind.

Lip doesn't flinch, but his eyes follow you as you retreat to the stove. The sizzling fills the silence between you, a mundane sound at odds with the emotional undercurrent.

"Okay. " He says softly, his tone careful but not placating. "No money. Got it. “

He leans against the counter, giving you space but not leaving. His presence is like a gravitational pull you're fighting against.

You focus on the fish, flipping it with more force than necessary. The spatula scrapes against the pan, a harsh sound that makes you wince.

"I don't need—" You start, then stop, unsure how to finish. Charity? Help? Him? All feel like lies on your tongue.

Lip waits, his patience a contrast to your agitation. When he speaks again, his voice is low, almost confessional.

"You know, when I was at my lowest, I couldn't stand the idea of anyone helping me either. ”

There's something so melancholy in his voice, a darkness creeping into the depths of the ocean that usually swims with his gaze that draws your attention, once again, back to him and his story.

He pushed himself off the counter, coming just a little closer to you with gentle steps like he's scared to startle you into abandoning him for a second time.

"It sucked, " he goes on, "It felt like shit, it made me feel even shittier. "

Then he's behind you and he isn't reaching for you, isn't touching you and it's even more dizzying than if he just was.

You shut the burner off and slump, feeling smaller as his breath ghosts across your skin.

The fish continues to sizzle, filling up the gaps where you don't speak, almost like it's speaking for you.

He's an inferno, a personal sun, everything burns in his orbit, you're convinced.

But you don't like the heat, the tension.

So, instead, you stand straight with a grimace as you say,

"What're you here for, Lip?" You glance at the clock on your stove. "It's nearly midnight. "

His eyes trail down your neck and he says nothing.

Everything goes quiet. So quiet, that when you tilt your head away from him, you catch the cat staring blankly at the two of you with his tongue out and drool pooling on the ground beneath it.

You press your lips together as your brows, furrowed, meet the bridge of your nose with creases and wrinkles you've picked up from excessive worrying.

"Here for a hookup?" You don't face him as you say this, instead you busy yourself with retrieving a plate but fail to find a clean enough looking one amongst the pile of dishes in your sink and settle for a coffee filter instead.

"Jesus christ, Y/N. “ He leans forward so he's sure you can hear every word he says. "Stop projecting your shit onto me. "

Ouch.

Your lips purse, pulling down to a flat, disapproving line at that.

"You're an asshole. “

You place the faux fish on the makeshift plate with a slightly shaking hand and then turn to him, looking him in the eye in distraught before you're speeding past him again, to the couch to rip the blanket you've got on there back over the chipping surface before you finally land on it, slumping into the battered cushions with a huff and a deep, tired sigh that has him blinking at you.

The cat has since vacated the premises upon the third trip you made around your apartment, choosing to go do gods knows what over sitting on his owner's lap which is even more distressing than anything Lip had seen on his way over, or once he had actually stepped inside.

For a moment he stands awkwardly in the kitchen, staring at the back of your head, unable to fathom what you must be thinking, so he ponders, maybe trying to relieve some of that pressure instead.

"Why does this—" he catches his own sentence, having almost used the words "make you", and quickly removes that option from use. "How's your stress lately?" Is the question he elects to ask instead.

"Stress doesn't bother me. "

You lie, blatantly, blatantly lying.

He clicks his tongue, finally removing himself from the stagnant stance and strolling toward you.

One foot before the other, before the other, before the next and the next and the next, finally finding himself within the circle that surrounds your worn out couch.

"Come on. " Lip grunts lowly, eyeing the coffee table you're sat before that's cluttered with junk, and half gone boxes of garbage, with rags and bottles, stray pens and hair ties.

"Lip–"

"Lemme see. " He hums at the sight of an empty plate with something half burnt and some sort of vegetable fried in butter but otherwise undistinguishable. He's pretty sure he might have to scrape it off from how long it's been sitting there, hardening.

"I didn't say you could help clean my shit. " You warn him, trying to maintain a certain sort of coldness even though there was no way of disguising the way your shoulders lessened at his voice, or the way your back pushed in further in the seat.

That's okay. He liked your stubbornness more and more with each passing minute.

You kept him on his toes.

He sighs in response, mumbling out a comment he kept to himself over your unwillingness to accept some kind of help; like you were starving– dehydrated.

He kneels slowly in front of you and reaches out his hands until your body stiffens and then wilts underneath them.

For the sake of your pride and that stubborn resistance to accept any amount of comfort, or to even bring up the fact that Lip is, in some ways, your rock.

He can do that for you, he tells himself. He likes being relied on by someone.

Someone who needs him in a way you never let anyone see because you had this notion to keep it all locked away inside of you like you could be dependable, like you were all you had.

"Listen to me. " He takes the tasteless fish away from you and for a moment you look appalled and ready to snap, but then he grabs your hands from your lap and slides his fingers along your palms and the fight is gone at that instant.

Your eyes glaze, darkening the circles underneath and he can't help but tug you away from the makeshift plate, from the furniture, the piles of stuff on the ground, the stack of boxes in the corner, the scattered clothing and the woes of your life.

Before you know it, his arms are cradling you and his warmth, his body heat, his scent, it's all encompassing.

"You don't gotta be perfect, you know?"

You grit your teeth when he says this, laying limp like a baby on your half living room, half bedroom floor with your face buried against his collar as he practically lay above you, holding you.

"Stop. " You force out, then a second time and a third before you can get anything more coherent from your lips.

He quiets you each time with another and another gut wrenching statement and soon, your intensities are practically splayed out across the stained, Dollar Tree carpet.

"It's not anything I can't handle. "

"I'm sure you can– you always find a way. " He shifts a bit, but it doesn't disrupt your hold on him. "But it's okay to need help every once and awhile. It's okay. Even to ask for it. "

"Lip, I just—”

He hears the anger in your tone, and he shushes you with a coo like noise and a slight nod of his head.

"I can't find a fucking job. " You mutter a few moments later into his shoulder, where his hands had snaked up into your hair so he could run the pads of his fingers along your scalp.

He nods, sympathetic, "You'll find something. You'll figure it out. "

"What the fuck am I doing wrong?" Your fingers raise from the carpet in silent resentment as you ask this, reaching up to claw at the thin, coarse fabric adorning his chest.

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing. You're fucking great. The problem isn't you. Okay?"

"Sure, " You sigh, gripping onto his shoulders tighter, pulling his torso closer to you. "You say that because you think you'll hurt my feelings if you say anything else. "

"That's not true. " Lip snickers, sliding the hand back from where he was gently squeezing the back of your neck to play around with your hair instead. "If I was, we wouldn't be talking right now. You know?“

"Right. " You sniffle, a bit of a laugh bubbling up within the depths of your chest. "Because your heart belongs to anyone other than yourself? Doubt it. "

And the snark causes a giggle to erupt into the quiet of your little studio apartment.

You can smell him. His smell is like his scent mixed with coffee and sugar– for those Mondays when you want a treat, but are too lazy to walk the three blocks to the bakery for anything different than a cup of joe.

"Wow. " He snorts in return, resting his forehead against the top of your head where your nose met the tuffs of his curly, messy looking hair. "You're lucky I like you. "

"Uh huh. " A strained chuckle pushes past your lips, eyes sliding shut as your hands find his hips.

The sound of your heart beating in your ear is all you can hear as his fingers clasp around the sides of your face.

Everything is calming, cathartic. His demeanor is like honey; it runs down your bones, seeping into your open wounds and they begin to grow a bit plumper under the heat.

"Sometimes I just—" you pause, the feeling of his thumbs stroking back and forth across your jawline is too distracting for you to pay attention to the fact that you're trying to get your point across, "feel like there's something bad coming? Something coming for me, you know?"

"Yeah, " he blinks, hands gliding from your cheeks to the underside of your ears. "I know what you mean. "

His hands flatten, then run down until they find the collar of your shirt and a part of you relaxes as his fingertips stroke the outer lining of the stretched fabric.

"I get the same feeling too. " He adds, voice, so wonderfully low, rumbling from deep within his chest. "All the time. " He sighs quietly, rocking a bit.

"I'm gonna help you. " His eyes are dilated, even against the muted white ceiling light that hung above the two of you. You don't think twice to notice. “Get something going. Something solid. “

"Lip. " You choke a bit on the inside as he says this, turning your head to the right.

"I know you don't need it, but I want to. "

Against your better judgment, you take a dive and glance him right in his eyes and he doesn't falter.

It surprises you, then it doesn't.

A short sharp intake, air filling your lungs and Lip smiles. Just a sliver of skin at the edges of his lips. You take note of his change of expression immediately.

"When was the last time you had something actually good to eat?”

You narrow your gaze at him, ready to throw back an answer at his statement when he silences you by raising his hand up, index finger flying to shush you as he points at something past the two of you.

When you turn to look, you see your cat lapping his sandpaper tongue on your fish, seemingly enjoying it more than you had been.

"Been awhile for him too, apparently. "

You groan quietly, leaning back into him where the sound of his beating heart feels like music from some unknown realm your tired mind couldn't hope to understand.

"C'mon, " Lip nudges you gently.

"I'll get you something to eat. “

[sanjisjuul]

Lonely

Summary: you can't sleep cuz you're a sad and lonely bitch but luckily sanji is there

Cw: none! pure fluff/angst kinda

Note: had a shit day today, and i'm not the best at fluff but this was needed

Word count: 1.9k

Mdni 18+

10:34 pm 

stretching your tired arms and deeply yawning, you are finally ready to turn in for the night. you place the book you’ve been immersed in for the past two hours on your wooden night stand. your reading glasses follow as you pull them off the bridge of your nose, letting your tired eyes adjust to the dull iridescence of your quarters. 

another restless night awaits and you’re well aware. sleeping has been quite a difficult feat for you to accomplish, as you’ve been feeling awfully empty as of late. the very second your heavy head hits your feather filled pillow, your thoughts race. ones of not only your present loneliness, but the what if’s haunt you constantly. you used to cry, to curl up in a fetal position and weep yourself into a restless sleep. visions of your troubles manifest in your dreams. images of a faceless man, one who you feel unconditional love for is suddenly ripped away from you. this reoccurring nightmare startled you at first, driving your mind into anxiety and sorrow, but now you’ve become numb. numb to the idea of being alone, numb to the idea of being laid to rest never knowing the feeling of what it’s like to be held, to be sought after, to be loved.

one man in particular stands out to you, one who makes you smile, laugh, even blush on occasion. unfortunately you have talked yourself out from confessing anything to him. although he seems to like you, treat you as if you’re a rarity, he is unfortunately like that to all women, any feeling of specialty is ripped away the second he approaches nami or robin in the same manner. however it doesn’t stop you from wondering. wondering what it would be like to be loved by him, not just for your gender or your physical beauty, but loved for you. what it would be like to lay by his side night after night, strong arm wrapped around your torso as he snores quietly into your mess of hair. what it would be like to walk beside him, hand in hand as you saunter through busy streets of a shopping island. going into store after store, not looking for anything in particular, but just enjoying each others company. what it would be like to help him with breakfast, waking up earlier than usual just to spend a few extra minutes with him doing what he loves. what it would be like to be with him, to be his and for him to be yours.

12:26 pm

after almost two hours of tossing and turning, rubbing your icy feet on your legs attempting to warm up a bit you decide to get up. you attempt to swallow but the dryness of your mouth along with the lump in your throat indicates that you need a cold glass of water. you sigh, wiping the crust from your eyes and swinging your tired legs over your bed. you creep to your door quietly, tiptoeing as to not wake anybody from their slumber. most should be asleep right now, with the exception of usopp franky and zoro, none of which would be in the kitchen. you silently thank whatever entity that you won’t encounter anybody as you slowly trudge down the hall. 

upon reaching the kitchen door you softly push it open, cringing as the door lets out a loud creaking noise. you try your hardest to not let it swing shut behind you, before you halt. to your horror the kitchen is occupied, the smell of cigarette smoke swirls around your air before being sucked into your nose harshly as you deeply inhale. 

“y/n?” you turn towards the voice, putting on a sheepish smile to face the last person you wanted to see at the moment, the culprit of your sleepless nights. he stands back towards the counter, facing you. his suit jacket is discarded as he stands in his usual button down shirt and black slacks. you suck in a harsh breath of air when you observe that the first three buttons are undone and his tie is loosened. 

“hey sanji,” you stand awkwardly by the door, arms crossed. “didn’t expect you to um… be up right now.”

he puts his cigarette out beside him, before rolling up his sleeves, “just had to finish up some things in here, i was actually just about to head to bed.” he smiles genuinely, pleasantly surprised to see you in your cute pajamas. “i’m more surprised to see you awake at this hour. do you need anything darling, how about some tea?” he questions. 

your face heats up at the use of the pet name, “no no it’s fine, i just couldn’t sleep, came in here for a glass of water,” you look down trying to avoid eye contact to prevent him from asking any further questions.

“come, sit,” he pulls out a chair for you, beckoning towards it. “i’ll get you a cold glass of water.” you apprehensively approach, offering him a smile as you sit down and he pushes the chair in for you. you thank him as he opens the cabinets, fishing out a glass for you to drink out of. you fiddle your thumbs anxiously as he opens the freezer door, scooping out some ice and heading to the sink.

your thoughts cloud as you’re alone with the man you’ve been having fantasies about. you can’t help but pull your lips into a thin line and furrow your eyebrows as you try not to think about the massive admiration you carry for him. however, it’s no use, you almost blush as he sets the glass of water in front of you, pulling out the chair adjacent and taking a seat.

“so tell me,” he starts, leaning towards your frame, knee coming into contact with yours. “why can’t you sleep darling? something on your mind?” you stare down at your water, careful not to make eye contact, because you know that if you do, you’ll crumble, become putty on the floor as you confess how you really feel.

“oh,” you act a bit surprised at his question, “it’s nothing really, just a lot on my mind.” you take a small sip of water, your body shivering as the cold liquid chills your veins delightfully. he hums in response, lighting a cigarette before taking a drag, careful not to blow the smoke near you. “are you alright? if anyone is bothering you, please do tell me. is it that shitty swords-“

“no!” you cut him off abruptly, cringing at the raise of your voice. you can’t handle any more questions from him, not to mention the burning of his gaze on the side of your face, is driving you crazy. you feel as if you’re in an interrogation, angry detectives flashing bright lamps onto your guilty face. 

sanji leans back at your tone, slightly hurt, but he doesn’t let it show. he falls silent for a moment before opening his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it. “its just…. i feel lonely,” you start, finally facing your attention to look at him. his expression softens into one of caring, his pretty blue eyes stare affectionately into yours. “it’s just hard.” you finish, quick to grab another sip of water as a lump forms in your throat and tears prick at your eyes.

you try to blink away your tears, but sanji is quick to act. he leans towards you, opening his arms offering you a hug. you accept his embrace, leaning into his arms and sobbing into his chest immediately. “oh darling,” sanji coos, petting your hair as you stain his shirt with your tears.

you’ve broken, floodgates of emotion pour out not only in front of him, but directly into him. and although you wish you hadn’t cracked, you can’t ignore the utter feeling of relaxation as he holds you. you can’t help but cry more as each second goes by, his touch one you had been yearning for for so long.

“i-,” you start, before another sob wracks your chest, you try to hide your face into him. “you what?” he asks softly, finger picking up your chin to look at him. his beautiful blue eyes sparkle, lips parted almost as if he knows what you’re about to say. you’ve never seen sanji this way. although he is caring, he usually acts so foolish around you along with the other girls. his failing attempts to flirt and foolish antics dissipate in front of you as he awaits your response.

“i need you,” tears flow freely down your exposed face, the taste of salt pricks your tastebuds. “all i want is to be with you, i love you.” sanji freezes at your statement, eyes growing large and cigarette falling out of his mouth, dropping to the floor. his eyes start to well with tears, one falling slowly down his face, “darling,” he whispers, removing his hand from your face.

you wince at the loss of contact, preparing for the rejection you have imagined one too many times. “i love you too,” he cries. your instincts take over as you launch yourself onto him, arms wrapping around his neck resting in his locks. he reciprocates, placing you in his lap and squeezing you tightly as if you were to run off at any moment.

you stay like that, seconds and minutes tick by as you cry into each other, raw emotions filling the otherwise empty kitchen. you feel ecstatic, tears of longing form into ones of happiness as you play with the hair that rests on the back of his head. no words need to be exchanged, the way you are entangled with each other speaks louder than any sentence you could utter. 

however you do speak, you ask a question that’s been haunting you for months, “can you sleep beside me? please?.” you sniffle as your crying dies down, tears reduced to dry patches on your skin. 

sanji doesn’t answer only stands, lifting you in his arms as you wrap your legs around his torso. he carries you out of the kitchen, not bothering to turn off any lights. his footsteps echo throughout the hallway, before he approaches your door, kicking it softly open before setting you down onto your bed. 

he admires you for a moment, pupils dilating as he adjusts to the darkness of your room. he wipes the tears that remain, smiling deeply. “i love you, so much” is the only sentence he utters as he removes his tie along with his shirt. you decide silently to not discuss further, only allowing yourselves to speak through touch as he enters your bed, lifting the blankets as he climbs in beside you.

you immediately shuffle closer to him, wrapping a leg around him as you lean on his chest. he places his arm underneath your head, turning and pressing a kiss into your forehead, “you’re so perfect,” he mutters, before laying back on the pillow. you revel in the heat of his bare skin, this contact being so longed for you almost cry again.

drowsiness has overtaken your body, between the emotional rollercoaster, the sobbing, and the immense comfort sanji gives you, you’re finally ready to sleep, but you need to ask one last thing before you allow yourself to loose consciousness. “will you be mine?” you whisper into his chest, the thumping of his heart relaxing you further. 

“i’m already yours.

tags @kibblz-n-bitz @pileofmush @bby-deerling @leakyweep @bokutosbiceps @yoonavii @thevirtualvalentine @anemptypuddingcup

love, bia ૮ • ﻌ - ა

[nectardaddy]

best friend's demon - okkotsu yuuta

synopsis: is it normal to have a best friend who has a demon attached to him? is it normal that you know it's there?

cw: talk of the occult, demons/ghosts, paranormal happenings, reader is a little strange

notes: non curse au but with a spooky twist, plantonic relationship, I listened to the beetlejuice soundtrack while writing this, this idea seemed perfect for my sweet baby yuuta, og thoughts here

He's not normal. Far from it. So sick, so twisted, so naive, that it made you want to vomit. The dreadful wave of wretched emotions washing over and you succumbed to the wave and slipped under. You heaved for air, but were granted none, lungs gnashing in your chest just for the slightest bit of oxygen. You couldn't - you wouldn't. It stung, it burned, it created an overwhelming sense of dread with every breath. The air was thick and dense, dizzying as you choked under the pressure; and you wondered what in the hell could create such a powerful presence.

A pale face, with dark eyes, and dark hair was your only prognosis. Okkotsu Yuuta was the only reason why the tone of the room was flipped on its head. A foul, loathsome, choking feeling upon entering any room; he was none the wiser.

You just had to know what on earth was wrong with him.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

The second hand of the clock moved painfully slow, drifting past the face all the while the minute hand hadn't seemed to move. Your eyes glazed over, encapsulated by the fluidity of the clock hands, you had completely tuned the world out. It was an odd feeling to be so calm, so secure, without worry of the outside world - or the world beyond. You couldn't remember how long you remained like this, so enthralled by the movement and a moment of peace.

A gentle tune hung in the air, humming to yourself absentmindedly as you stared stone faced. It wasn't a specific melody, but one that you knew of, a familiarity within the soft drone from your lips. A haunting scene really. Staring into the void all the while humming appealing chords. But your musings ceased as a tightness entered your chest; blinking, and letting a sigh pass your lips, you came back to reality.

There had been a shift, a significant one, within the room you occupied. A thick, malevolent presence taking you by the throat and squeezing relentlessly. A crumbling feeling that made you feel completely overwhelmed, a crushing sensation on your shoulders as they dropped. An eerie silence replaced the soft tick of the clock, one could hear a pin drop if they chose, and your skin crawled at the sudden change.

"You're late," you breathed out, raising your voice only slightly. Eyes flickering over the vacant room, a quant study room with only a table and two chairs, you watched as the door handle swung downward. Door opening only to reveal a sorrowful expression on tired, sickly pale, features.

"I forget every time you can tell I'm here before I even open the door," the voice was frail, an almost feminine twang. "Sorry I'm late," the man gushed, giving you a sorry smile as he joined you at the table. "Today has been terrible," he added. Dark eyes finally met with your own, swirling with a peculiar emotion you could never quite put your finger on. Guilt? Hatred? Self pity?

"It's pissed off today," stating so nonchalantly it made his smile falter. "More than usual," you tagged on to which he softly groaned. "That's probably why your day is shit."

A nervous chuckle fell from the man's lips at your words, truly not knowing what to make of them. "Wonderful," he sighed. A pause fell between the pair of you, noticing all too well that the clock's repeatative tick failed to hit your ears anymore. It was worrying the amount of control whatever was attached to the man had within, its hellish claws sinking deep well beyond the veil. It wasn't normal. It was dangerous. "Do you ever get tired of it?"

His question caught you off guard, coming back from within your own mind to register what was spoken. "Huh?" You posed, furrowing your brows in confusion, "tired of what, exactly?"

"Sensing things you can't see?" He corrected, eyes looking into your own for even a hint of an answer. "I don't know how you do it," letting a sigh pass his lips once more, he leaned back into his chair. "Constantly feeling like someone is there, watching and waiting."

"I'm used to it," you shrugged. "But," you began, letting out a small breath before continuing, "your's isn't normal. Usually demons want to hurt, try to possess, or at least traumatize their benefactor. It's like it's protecting you, in a fucked up sort of way." Your explanation made his features fall, now holding a neutral expression. "I've never felt so off put by some else's attachment. It's like it doesn't want anyone around you."

Tick. Tick. Tick.

It answered you. By means of the clock starting up again - it agreed with you. The notion caused your stomach to churn, flicking your eyes towards the device and turning your head to look past the man in front of you. The quick, fluid motion caused his breath to hitch in his throat, swallowing hard as he knew your reactions were never in vain. It was strange how comfortable, or rather desensitized, he was with your off putting reactions; though he was concerned with the amount you had around him.

Although nauseous from the presence, and frankly the revelation as well, a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips. A chilling smile, unnatural for the situation you found yourself in. "I'll be damned," you mumbled to yourself, leaving the man before you baffled and confused. "Greedy little thing, your attachment is."

"You're making that face again," he spoke with a tense chuckle. He was all too accustomed with your frantic mind, wry smiles, and dark chuckles; a familiarity he found within himself that he was absentmindedly drawn to. At first, he was well too uninformed as to why he found himself occupying your presence. But you toed the line of peculiar and macabre, as did he, and he found solace in the fact you were just as sane as him - which your sanity in itself was very thin. To him you were an absolute treasure of a comrade. A friend he wished he had sooner in his life.

"Of course I'm making this face!" You laughed, a cackle that made him sink in his chair with a small breath. He rather enjoyed your tangents about the paranormal and the occult, but being as his day was already wrecked; however, made him refrain from speaking ill of the very thing that havocked it. Slinking down in his seat as a means to make himself smaller, hoping that the entity attached to him would perhaps feel pity on him. "Yu, does it ever talk to you?" Utterly ignoring his dainty complaints and physical reaction, once you were on a roll there was no stopping.

Pale hands that once rested on the table in front of him, now moved to his lap. Grabbing at the side seam of his pants as his mind began to race, "not explicitly?" A questioning tone as his voice raised a twinge at the end. "I get weird dreams about it, but it never really talks to me."

"What kinds of dreams?" Your eyes flicked back to the man sitting at the table, finally taking in his anxiety riddled form. Far too intrigued by the clock only moments ago, you felt a pang of guilt wash over you. "Too much?" You asked shyly, a sorry smile creeping on your features to replace your wild one, retreating from your latter statement and shoving it to the back burner of your mind.

"Too much."

Two words, simple enough, leaving your skin less prickled, a bit more oxygen filling your lungs, and the crushing weight easing its clutches on your shoulders. Was this all it took? A caring word to the man?

Was it possible to play nice with your best friend's demon?

oooooh I might make a part 2 I love this

[suckerfordylansstuff]

New Journey (S.H.) Epilogue Season 4

Pairing: Steve Harrington x henderson!reader

Summary: Back to Hawkins for spring break. Y/n believed it would just be a quiet time to cherish with her loved ones, but one day in and another mess had already began.

Warnings: I think none...

Notes: And finally we have the epilogue! Thank to anyone who managed to bear with me this year and wait for my comeback. It has been hard to keep up my creativity while I continue my studies but I have made a promise to myself to not let anything else ruin what I like, and so here I am finishing this very loved story. Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy the final chapter of the season! 💕

Chapter 9 << Masterlist ~~

The next 2 days were a mess. Police report after police report. Explanation after explanation. And lots of angry parents.

Luckily you had the government on your side, so the lies were told for you. An earthquake they called it. Another tragedy that hit this small, little town. You remembered how you scoffed when you first heard those words on the news.

After Eddie died the world around you was so still and quiet, you actually thought that the others had succeeded. When, suddenly, everything went to shit. The whole ground rumbled beneath you, snapping you out of your state. You grabbed onto Dustin, his body weighing on you for support as he could barely walk on his hurt leg, desperately trying to quickly make your way to the trailer for cover, not knowing what was going on. However, it quickly became clear that the trailer was the one place you definitely should not go. The whole thing snapped, completely collapsed before you as a line began separating the ground, splitting it. The color was familiar, red like hell’s gates… Or every gate you had ever encountered.

“He’s bleeding into Hawkins…” Dustin had realized, and he was right. That was Vecna’s plan, and, for a good while, it looked like he was succeeding, the ripped line becoming bigger and bigger, following a direction you couldn’t see. You and Dustin were holding on each other as tight as possible until the earthquake you were feeling stopped. Again, everything had stilled.

You remembered not being able to move a muscle until a pair of arms engulfed you and Dustin. It shocked you, and panicked you as you prepared to fight off whoever had sneaked upon you, when a small shush filled your ears, your body reacting to it faster than your brain was able to register it was Steve’s voice, Steve’s arms, just him. Finding out he was alive had brought you back to tears, letting your one arm tangle itself around him, your other still protecting Dustin.

After that everything was a blur, as if your brain was slowly giving up on you, too tired to gather any more information. You managed to go back out, heading towards the town to find several guards and paramedics already there to take action. You got yourselves sorted, attending to small wounds, your, larger-than-you-thought slash on your cheek, and taking care of Dustin’s sprained foot. You don’t really remember how you went back home. Steve stayed with you and Dustin that night, your own mother insisting when she heard him say his parents weren’t at the house, ‘No way was he going to stay alone at this time’ were her words and you agreed, your hand not leaving Steve’s even for a second. After you had hugged your mother goodnight you decided all three of you would stay together for the night. You pulled out the sofa which ended up being occupied by you and Dustin, and Steve gladly took the armchair, his soft snores filling the room, slowly pulling you to a deep sleep.

By the next morning, you all had to pretend as if nothing had happened. Your mother had even more questions than you could ever imagine, about where were you before everything happened, and you ended up coming up with good enough lies to ease her worries and not raise any suspicions.

But it was hard to act as if everything was okay, especially when Luca’s phone call came. Dustin answered it. You had been trying to find them since yesterday, but no one was picking up. Neither Lucas nor Max. Dustin called you and Steve over when he heard Lucas’s voice, happy to hear his friend. But the grin he had put on quickly faded as he listened to what he had to say. Max was attacked last night, that’s why Vecna succeeded in his plan, and even if she had somehow escaped him once more, her condition was bad. Steve drove you two to the hospital to check on her. You found Lucas sitting next to her, holding hands, as he read to her. You’re not sure how you had contained your tears, maybe you felt the need to be strong for them, to be able to pull Lucas from the chair and guide him to the small couch in the room, trying to get him to sleep for a couple of hours. You managed to do so after you promised not to leave her side, not even for a moment.

So that’s what you did for the next four hours. You just sat around her, not daring to take your eyes away from her form, wishing, praying for her to open her eyes and call you idiots for worrying. But she didn’t, and when Lucas woke up you went back home to have an early dinner and try to calm yourselves.

It was later that evening when Nancy called your house, telling you that her family would be donating some stuff to the shelter Hawkins had built at the school’s gymnasium to attend to anyone who needed help. You immediately agreed and promised to bring some of your own stuff the next morning.

So that’s what you were now doing, alongside Dustin, Steve, and Robin, trying to assemble to boxes in a way that would fit in the back of Steve’s car.

You were too focused on the matter that you weren’t able to hear another car stop at the house, only Mrs. Wheeler’s voice grabbing your attention.

“Someone order a pizza?”

“Pizza?” Dustin questioned and turned around along with the rest of you. Before you, was a yellow, small pizza delivery truck. You didn’t know what to make of it until four familiar faces presented themselves. Eleven, Mike, Will, and Jonathan were back, also a random dude that had beautiful hair.

You were able to finally let out a real smile, happy to see them okay after days of no response from them. You let your arms fall around Eleven and Will as they hugged you and Dustin. Your hand was caressing Eleven’s cheek when Will popped a question.

“Where’s Lucas?”

“He’s at the hospital.” Dustin answered as if it should be obvious to them.

“Is he hurt?” Eleven asked, worry in her eyes.

“No.” you quickly answered as Dustin continued.

“No, he’s… Oh God… You don’t know.”

After saying hello to everybody, you split up the group. Nancy was going to drive the kids, and Jonathan to the hospital to see Max, while you, Steve, Dustin, and Robin would head to the school and help in any way that you can.

You carried one of the three boxes and went inside after Steve had parked the car. The gymnasium was filled with people, harmed and not. Some of them were lying in the small beds around the gym while others were tending to them. Some, and it broke your heart, were trying to find their loved ones, searching in the crowd of endless faces or adding one more poster to the ‘missing people’ wall. You averted your eyes when you caught a glimpse of Eddie’s face on one of the papers, calming your heartbeat as you neared the donations stand.

“Hi.” Robin told the woman with a smile on her face “Uh, so these are blankets and sheets. And some- some clothes, and- and some kids’ toys.” she points to each of the boxes in order.

The girl, Melissa as it says on her tag, took a look at the boxes and answered with a smile “Wow, it’s already so organized. We appreciate that. Do you want a tax receipt for it?”

“Um… No. I don’t think that we need one. Thank you, though.” Robin tells her. She turns to look at each of you, the question in on all of your minds, and you answer her by nodding your head “But is there anything else that we can do to help?”

Melissa smiled and happily assigned you spots after giving you your own tags. You and Steve went to help out in clothing, where, you quickly realized, they were in desperate need of assistance. Dustin was handing out water despite his strained foot, and Robin was helping out with the food.

Melissa introduced you to the woman in charge of the clothing station, who rapidly caught you up to speed “Okay, then we sort by age.” you tried your best to keep up with her and miss no detail “We’ve got infants, girls, boys, men, women… Oh, if anything’s too bad a shape, we really don’t want that.”

She didn’t stay long with you. It was pretty easy to sort out and a great way to clear your head, so you and Steve fell into a trance quickly. As you folded the clothes you let your eyes roam the room and after a second they landed on Robin who was sharing her company with a familiar figure. You immediately smirked and nudged Steve to look in the same direction. He smiled as well at the two women, smiling and giggling away like no one else was with them “Told you.” he simply said and you chuckled.

It felt nice to joke around after another crazy adventure. You wanted to savor the time the quietness lasted, even though deep down, you truly hoped this would finally be over. But it never seemed to last. And something told you this time it won’t either. You just believed you had a moment to breathe, however, the change in the atmosphere outside told you otherwise.

When you realized the sun had hidden you took a look in the sky, hoping no thunderstorm was coming your way, but what you met made your blood run cold. The sky was grey, with huge clouds adorning the sky.

However, what caught your attention were the small flakes falling gently. As you neared the windows, alongside Steve and Robin, you could hear people asking with confusion why was it snowing mid-spring, but the three of you knew this wasn’t snow. This was the Upside Down coming to you, taking over your city, following you everywhere.

This definitely wasn’t over.

If you want to be tagged just ask!

Taglist:   @bookscoffeandotherstuff @i-am-the-coffee-queen @bi-andready-tocry​ @enchantedcruelsummer​ @daddystevee​ @elite4cekalyma  @hayadora​ @hannarudick​ @thecaptainsgingersnap​ @lookalivesunshine-x​ @sarasmismyonlydefence​ @astream-ofconsciousness​ @the-haikyuu-hoe ​​ @mileven-reddie @mochminnie​​ @synonymforlame @teamkiall ​​ @samanthadegaro​​ @the-passionate-freak​​ @thesailbells​​ @i-mmunity​​ @marvelouspottering @mrs-diggory @mydarlingharry @beepbeephargrove @mikariell95 @sweetdreamsshifter @paninipress @anolddayslover @10minutesofscreentime @bookfrog242 @onecrazydirectioner @harrycanyonmoonn @grippleback-galaxy @doctorsgirl262 @mayonesavegana @inkpot-winters @le-who-zer-her  @mysticgardenpolice @untitledarea @kahhorri

[sxfterhearts]

countdown

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ neighbour barista!jae x non-idol!reader ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

♡ genre/warnings: neighbours to lovers, but with a sprinkle of barista au and rockstar au?!? (jae is a busy boy)

♡ word count: 5,747 words

♡ author’s note: finally finished this pic !! writing this got me deep in jae feels so now i'm officially part of the jars fandom... <3 also a very big shoutout to my lover @hyucksos for betareading my first present tense fic ilysb xoxo

♡ song rec: hi hello by day6

◃───────────▹

Twelve minutes. 

He’s tugging on his socks, so obviously mismatched, just barely making it out the door without tripping on his own two feet. 

He fumbles and feels around his pockets for the keys, breathing a sigh of relief when he feels the familiar imprint against his jeans.

But the relief is short-lived. His eyes widen in panic when his gaze lands upon the sweet old lady making her way towards the elevator from her end of the corridor, walking stick in hand. Cursing to himself, he readjusts his guitar strap on his shoulder, making a beeline towards the elevator.

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon…” He mutters under his breath, fingers jabbing the down button at frantic speed. 

Behind him, a door clicks shut. You step out, double-checking that your front door is locked properly. 

You turn around, only to be faced with the broad back of your tall neighbour from the end of the corridor. You’ve crossed paths a few times before, but only briefly. From what you could gather, he orders a shit ton of takeout (as evident from the piles of recycled takeaway containers he leaves intermittently by his door), and is always  up at irregular hours. You vaguely remember brushing past him by the elevator way past midnight a few weeks ago when you came home from a company dinner that ran way over. You were tired, shoulders slumped, looking forward to a warm shower and a good night’s sleep; whereas he was dressed in all black, hood pulled up over his head, backpack slung over his shoulder. He looked like he was going somewhere – at 2am.

You shake those thoughts away. It’s just past seven, and you’re running slightly late for your dinner with an old friend. The bus leaves in five minutes, so you really have to get to the bus stop soon. You briefly consider running down the stairs, but decide against it given you’re  on the ninth floor.

You stand carefully behind your neighbour. He’s bouncing on his feet, fingers tapping against his thighs impatiently. Perhaps you’re not the only one in a rush.

The elevator dings, signalling its arrival.

Jae swears the door slides open at a snail’s pace. He’d already been late  for the last few gigs – he couldn’t afford to not be on time today, unless he wanted his head on the chopping block. He quickly jogs in, pressing for the ground floor, but he’s so absorbed in getting in before the ahjumma arrives that he fails to notice your presence.

Your eyes meet in a split second, and he flashes you an apologetic look, before pressing the doors shut.

That bastard!

“I’m sorry!” His voice filters through the rapidly closing doors as you stand there in shock, refusing to believe that your neighbour just slammed the elevator door shut in your face. 

Needless to say, you were late to your dinner. 

For the next few days, whenever your line of sight falls upon that particular neighbour’s door, you feel your blood boiling underneath your skin.

───────────

You settle into the elevator, pressing your AirPods into your ears, ready to start the morning commute and face the day. It’s a Monday, the start of a new week, and you already miss the soft crinkle of your sheets under your skin. 

Just as the doors slide close, a hand sticks in between the doors, prompting it to re-open.

Your eyebrow lifts at the new intruder.

And in walks none other than your menace of a neighbour.

He’s sporting large wire-rimmed, round glasses this time. A shoulder bag hangs upon his lithe frame, and headphones sit snug around his neck. A small ponytail sits atop his head.

You squint your eyes at it, staring.

He sucks in a breath, caught off guard by your presence. He nods his head, almost sheepishly, averting his gaze towards his old Converse, worn from years of sticky bar floors and spilt coffee. 

The elevator doors slide close, trapping the two of you inside the metal cell.

You know it’s rude to stare, but the contrast between the tiny ponytail and the rest of him (or what you know of him, at least) is too stark to ignore.

He seems to feel the weight of your gaze, following your line of sight before patting his head down with his hand, wincing internally at the realisation that he forgot to fix his hair after brushing his teeth and washing his face.

The air is tense and silent for the rest of the ride. You have nothing to say to him. He seems to be mulling over the right words.

The doors slide open, just as his lips part. 

“I’m sorry again.” He calls out, voice small as he realises the chances of you hearing him are slim. You’d  already stepped forward, feet crossing the threshold of the elevator. He continues anyway. “I know it was a pretty rude thing to do, but I couldn’t afford to be late again. I… I’m sorry.”

You stop in your tracks. You don’t say anything, or turn around. You simply nod lightly, before continuing with the rest of your day.

Jae lets out a breath he didn’t even realise he was holding.

Let me make it up to you, he wants to say, but the words die in his mouth.

───────────

It’s early – way too early, and Jae tries but fails miserably to rub the sleep from his eyes. He yawns, wondering to himself how anyone could possibly function at the crack of dawn. 

(Or at least, it feels like the crack of dawn for him, a seasoned night owl. It is, in fact, quarter past seven, which is a perfectly normal time for human beings to start their days.)

He glances at the clock.

Eight minutes, Jae reckons. Eight minutes before the morning rush starts and he’d have to interact with other people like a normal, functioning member of society. 

A sense of dread settles over him.

For now, he absentmindedly wipes over the surface of the coffee machine, the paddle, the coffee grinder – his metal companions for the morning shift. To his left, just at the corner of his eyes, sits  his notebook, open to his recent work.

It’s an uptempo, pop beat coupled with a melody that sits easily on the ears. He has the instrumentals locked in, but the lyrics are a different story. It’s taking him longer than usual to come up with a cohesive narrative, and by this point, he’s tired of constantly hitting dead ends.

The windchime sings, signalling the arrival of customers. The early summer air blows through the open doors, the fresh scent of newly sprouting trees mingling with the lingering aroma of coffee beans in the air.

“Welcome to – Oh?”

Jae stops, tongue tied. An uneasy smile works its way onto his lips. He tries to conceal his surprise with his best customer service face. “Good morning, what can I get for you?”

Your eyes meet his in recognition. A look passes through your face for a mere second, before you recover your composure. You flash him a polite, tight-lipped smile. “Morning, can I get an iced latte please?”

He pulls a plastic cup from the organised pile, scribbling onto its side with a black marker. “Iced latte, coming right up.” He smiles , keying in your order and readying the card machine.

You linger by the counter. The cafe is empty, as it usually is. You’d tried  to come in earlier to beat the morning rush and get your caffeine hit before stepping onto the train.

It’s funny, you think to yourself. You’ve  lived in this apartment for months now, and frequented  this cafe a few times a week, but you’ve  never once crossed paths with your barista neighbour. Perhaps the timing never lined up properly, until now.

“Iced latte!” The voice you’ve  only heard from the echoes along your hallway or within the confines of the metal elevator rings throughout the empty space.

The owner of said voice, whose eyes were partially concealed by his too-long fringe and a cap, shines slightly as he passes you your drink. You find it hard not to notice the dark eyebags sitting below his brown orbs.

“Thank you.” You mumble , voice small. You feel uncertain, as though you should say something more, but decide against it. After all, he did close the elevator door on you.

“Wait!” Jae calls out, stopping you from leaving. He disappears behind the counter for a second, and re-emerges with a brown bag. He passes it to you.

“What…?”

“It’s on the house, I hope you like chocolate chip cookies.” He explains sheepishly. “An apology for what I did last time. I truly am sorry.” He says , voice and eyes both laced with sincerity.

“I… Thank you. It’s fine.” You reply, accepting the cookie, but unsure of what to make of the interaction. The words linger in the air for a moment too long.

“Jae.” He blurts out, a desperate attempt to fill the silence. Inwardly, he cringes at himself. “My name is Jae. You’re 918, right?”

A small grin spreads across your lips. You nod, “Yeah, I’m Y/N.”

“Well, I won’t keep you. See you around, Y/N.”

───────────

It’s funny, because you swear you’ve never seen Jae at the cafe before, until that day.

And then, all of a sudden, he starts popping up everywhere.

The elevator, the cafe, the recycling bins downstairs, at the convenience store across the road, by the bus stop. 

You searched it up late last night. It’s called the Baader-Meinhof phenomenon; the frequency illusion – the phenomenon of suddenly noticing something, or rather, someone, and then seeing it appear everywhere around you.

Six minutes.

There’s not much time until your bus comes, and if you miss this one, you’d have to squish and be squished in the next one. You briefly consider skipping coffee this morning, but a yawn tears through your soul, reminding you of just how late you stayed up last night.

This won’t do.

You push past the cafe’s double doors, feeling the scent of freshly brewed coffee enveloping your fatigued body.

That, and a now familiar voice.

“Morning!” He’s rather chirpy today, you think to yourself as you approach the counter. “The usual?”

You nod, stifling a yawn. Wordlessly, you go through the motions of a cafe regular, pulling out your phone to pay and passing Jae your loyalty card. 

“Long night?” He asks from beyond the steam and screams of the coffee machine. 

You shake your head. “No, just bad sleep.”

He laughed, eyes glinting teasingly. “Have you ever considered that perhaps your caffeine addiction is messing with the quality of your sleep?”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Don’t take my one single joy away from me.”

Jae pulls his hands up in surrender. “I’m just saying, I know I work in a cafe and all and we profit immensely from this addiction of yours, but cutting down wouldn’t hurt.”

You pout, arms reaching out for your savior; your beloved iced latte. “I’ll consider it.” 

He reaches across the counter with your coffee, but not before pretending to pull it back. Your hands follow the direction of the plastic cup a little too closely, fingers brushing his with a feather light touch. 

“Wow, you really do have a problem.” 

“Shut up.” You scold. “I’m leaving!”

“Oh, one sec.” He hands you another brown bag, this one much larger than before. “I messed up an order – there’s two slices of cheese instead of one. I’d usually just play dumb, but you know how particular the neighbour ahjumma is with her ham and cheese croissants.”

You laugh, because you in fact have no clue about this whatsoever. You just take his word for it. “Given how much free food you’re dishing out to customers, you’re probably running a loss at this rate.”

“Not just any customer, just you.” Jae teases, a playful lilt in his voice.

You wave at him, looking at your app for the next bus.

───────────

It’s the weekend, and the weather outside is smiling at you, beckoning you to leave the confines of your house. 

You comply, pulling on a simple t-shirt and shorts, and tying your hair back in an attempt to look somewhat neat. You step into your slides, grab your keys and let your feet guide you towards your recent obsession. Everyday, you found yourself in one of three places – your home, your office, or the cafe downstairs.

“Welcome to – Oh?” A curious laugh punctuates the unfinished sentence. “It’s the weekend!”

“I know.” You reply breezily, leaning across the counter. “I’m addicted, remember?”

Jae laughs, and you’re suddenly struck by how familiar it sounds in your ears, like a memory you keep reliving, over and over again. “You really are. The usual?”

You hum in agreement. “Yes, and…” You trail off, eyes travelling across the pastries on display in the fridge. It’s the weekend, after all. You make up your mind in an instant. “And a chocolate chip cookie, please.”

“Coming right up.” He nods, firing the coffee machine up.

You linger by the counter, your usual spot, not really bothering to find a seat. You prefer to be in his company anyways. 

“Any plans for today?” He asks casually, just as he shovels ice and pours milk into a plastic cup.

You shake your head, pulling your phone out to pick up where you left off from last night. “Not much – laundry, chores, groceries.”

“What are you up to?” Jae wonders, setting your iced latte down on the counter top. He attempts to peek past the coffee machine, but to no avail.

You hum absentmindedly. “Hmm, sudoku. I’m not really good at it though.” 

“Pass it over.”

You lift your eyebrow, doubtful. “Really?”

“You’d be surprised.”

Considering you have nothing to lose, you hand your phone over, in exchange for the iced latte. You take a big sip, allowing the caffeine to flow through your veins. You shut your eyes and sigh appreciatively.

“Addict.” Jae scoffs, watching you with a teasing glint in his eyes, before turning his attention to your puzzle.

He remains silent for a moment, studying the screen. “You’re nearly there.” He begins. “But I think you need to take a few more risks.”

“What do you mean?” You lean forward, trying to get a glimpse of what he’s seeing that you clearly aren’t. 

You get all up in his personal space, staring at your phone without paying any attention to the way Jae’s breath hitches in his throat. The scent of your freshly washed hair invades his senses, and for a second, he’s not sure whether he wants to take a deep inhale or hide away in the storeroom out back.

“Jae, what do you mean? I don’t get it.” You stare, willing the right numbers to appear in the right boxes.

He clears his throat. Focus. “I mean, you can just take guesses to eliminate your choices. Like, see here?” He points to a pair of boxes in the corner of the board. “The eight could go here, or there right? So you can just take a guess. And if it’s wrong, you’ll know immediately where it’s meant to go.”

You mull over his words, “I guess you’re right… How are you so good at this?” You wonder aloud, looking up to stare into his eyes. You feel your heart stutter in your chest at the closeness. You swear you could count his eyelashes if you focused. 

“Uhm,” He gulps. He tries to compose himself, fingers reaching for the brown paper bag, long forgotten. “Your cookie.”

“Thanks.” You mumble, quickly accepting it and taking a bite. You wait patiently for his response.

“Yeah, my sister used to play heaps. We passed a sudoku book back and forth on the back pews of Sunday church when we were kids.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the mental image your mind conjures up at his description. “Really?”

He bites his lip, a shy smile gracing his features. “Yeah, pretty lame, huh?”

You shake your head. “No, just a bit nerdy.”

“Sounds about right.”

───────────

The days pass in a whirlwind. 

Your newfound routine gives you comfort. You find yourself looking forward to waking up to a new day, and another cup of coffee from your neighbour-turned-barista. 

(You didn’t know it then, but neither did he. And the lingering conversations and warm exchanges prompted him to request more morning shifts, and to be home earlier, and to get to bed at reasonable times – just so he could be the best version of himself when he greets you in the morning.)

Early summer rolls into the rainy season, and the rain fades away to autumn. As the weather grows colder, you pull on more layers to keep warm. And yet, ironically, it feels like you are slowly, but surely, peeling back the layers of yourself.

(For him, of course.)

It’s a chilly morning, and you still haven’t let up on the iced lattes. You walk into the cafe, appreciating the warmth of the heaters in the cozy space. 

“You’re a bit late today.” He remarks, pushing the iced latte across the counter, ready for your arrival.

You laugh, waving to greet him. The two of you dance a familiar tango – you pay, and he stamps your loyalty card. “Thanks for being prepared. I took the day off today.”

“Oh, how come?” He asks, fingers fiddling with his pen. His notebook lay open, long forgotten.

“Gotta go to the hospital.” You reply, pouting as you sip your morning coffee. 

His eyes shoot up in alarm. “Hospital? Everything okay? You feeling alright?”

“Woah, woah.” You scoff, finding his worried expression endearing. “Aren’t you a little too invested in my health, as my barista?”

He averts his gaze, hands gesturing vaguely in the air. “You know, this cafe would crumble without your patronage.”

You laugh at that. “Yeah, well, you can’t get rid of me that easily. Just a routine checkup, nothing too serious, I hope.”

Jae breathes a sigh of relief. “Well, that’s good to hear. As your barista, I hope you will remain healthy so I can keep enabling your caffeine addiction.” He disappears briefly from behind the counter, and emerges with another brown bag. “A sweet treat, for good luck.”

He sets it down on the counter, next to his notebook. You reach towards it, but your eyes linger on the page. Chicken scrawls fill the lines. “What is it?” You ask, curious.

Jae sighs deeply. “A song I’ve been working on for ages, but it just refuses to come out right.”

“You write songs?”

He looks at you, eyes vulnerable. “Uhm, yeah. I sing too, and play the guitar. And the keyboard, if it’s required.”

“Oh!” The pieces of the puzzle fall into place. “That’s why you carry around a guitar!”

“No,” He begins, voice uncertain. “That’s because I play in a band.”

“You play in a band? What?!”

“Why are you so surprised?” He laughs nervously, unsure of what to make of your constant line of questioning. 

“Nothing, it’s just… You’re… Don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t necessarily fit the image of a band member.”

Jae clasps his hand across his chest in faked agony. “What does that mean?!”

“I mean, no offence, but you said you used to play sudoku with your sister in church. You’re telling me that boy grew up to play in a band?”

His lips formed a pitiful frown. “Hey, now you’re hurting my feelings. And yes, maybe you don’t really know me that well – have you considered that?”

You open your mouth, but fail to come up with a smart response. “I’m sorry,” You say  sincerely. “I guess we don’t really know each other that well for two people who spend most mornings together.”

“Now you’re just making it sound romantic, Y/N.”

Your eyes meet his, holding his gaze for a few moments. The air is strung high with an unspeakable tension.

You take another sip in an effort to dissipate the awkward air, before staring at his notebook. “Can I take a look?”

Jae nods, a sense of deja vu washing over him. “Are you gonna help me with my lyrics cos I helped you with your sudoku?”

“Perhaps.” You mumble, reading his words. It was messy, barely legible, with a slight slant – somehow, it was so him. “Don’t underestimate me, you’re looking at the eighth grade spelling bee champion.”

He steps away to clean the dishes, leaving you to your devices. 

When he comes back, you’re already scribbling across the page.

“How much do the words have to rhyme?” You ask, curious. 

He hums. “Not exactly, but they do have to flow naturally together. I don’t really know – it’s hard to explain, I just go with what feels right. But for some reason, I’m really struggling with this one.”

You nod, considering your options. “I’ll see what I can do.”

───────────

All day, at the office, you run your fingers across a single piece of paper. 

A five-inch piece of parchment with the name of a band you never heard of, until this morning. A date, a time, and a venue not too far away from your office.

You’ve been thinking about it all day – what his voice would sound like, what you should wear, how the audience would react. Your colleagues had to tap you repeatedly on your shoulder to ensure you were paying  attention during the weekly stand-up.

And yet, nothing could calm the persistent hammer of your heart against your ribcage. 

You met him first, as the annoying neighbour that slammed the elevator doors in your face.

You got to know him, slowly, as the barista who made your iced coffee every morning with a warm smile.

Tonight, you’ll see a whole other side of him. The performer; the artist underneath the overgrown fringe and wide-rimmed glasses and black hoodies. A different Jae.

It strikes  you, then. The layers of him are  slowly getting revealed to you, one by one, each more interesting than the last, and you want  nothing more than to keep peeling back the layers of him.

Three more minutes…

You think to yourself, willing the hands of the clock to move faster so you could get ready to leave.

───────────

“Two minutes til showtime!” The stagehand calls in a booming voice.

On your trip back from the bathroom, you catch him standing in the corner, alone, leaning against a wall.

His fingers twirl the guitar pick over and over, a nervous tick.

You debate between leaving and staying. As your thoughts circle in your head, you watch him pull out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. 

This wouldn’t do.

You walk up to him and wave.

He sees you crossing the room and flashes you an uncertain smile.

“What are you doing here?” He asks softly, voice small. “You’re not gonna get front row seats at this rate.”

“I’m here on very important business.” You tease, a grin working its way onto your lips. Your gaze flickers towards the pack, and for a second you contemplate whether what you are about to do will cross an unspoken boundary, but you think, to hell with it. 

“I’m not –” He begins.

You wordlessly reach out towards his hand, holding his trembling ones in yours. “No,” you spoke softly, with a quiet determination. “You won’t. You don’t need it to do well out there, trust me.”

Jae looks at you for a second, in awe. He looks away when the tightness in his chest gets too much. “How do you know?” He whispers, voice so small that your heart stutters in your chest.

“Because,” You take a deep breath, knowing that your words have the potential to make or break his confidence. “You’ve done this before, and you’ll do it again. Because you’ve conquered your nerves in the past and gave the audience a great show. Because you’ve performed and rehearsed these songs so many times. Because I helped you with the lyrics for one of them.” You pause, tightening your grip on his hands, and staring deep into his eyes. The lighting around you is scarce, and you can just make out your own reflection in his large glasses. But beyond that, his eyes are fixated solely on you, unwavering. “And because I believe in you.”

“Y/N,” Jae lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. It feels like a huge burden has been lifted off his shoulders. “I –”

“It’s showtime!”

A worried look passes across his eyes. You hold his shoulders, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “Go, I’ll be watching from the front row.”

“Promise?” He asks, uncertain.

You nod vigorously, knowing right then and there that you would promise him the world if you could.

───────────

The performance passes in a blur. 

One moment you’re jamming to the addictive beats, the next you’re being swept off your feet by Jae’s sweet, sweet vocals. You welcomed it all – moving your body to the music and allowing yourself to be serenaded by the band’s frontman.

All that dancing and cheering makes you parched, and you want to prolong the buzz and adrenaline with a glass of something chilled and strong.

“Hey, can I –”

“Gin and tonic for her, please. And a pint of beer for myself.” A voice, low and familiar, spoke next to you.

You turn towards it, and settle your eyes on the owner. He leans on the bar counter, all 6 feet of him, messy hair with sweat threatening to drip down his chin, staining his graphic tee and ripped jeans. He flashes you a teasing smirk.

“Jae,” You breathe, unsure of what to say or do after being completely moved by his performance and stage presence. You had no idea that your klutz of a neighbour could get the crowd going like that, like they were hypnotised by a magician. This is an entirely different side of him that you’ve never seen before, and you’re not entirely sure how to interact with it.

“Y/N,” Jae hands you your drink, and clinks your glass in a toast. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

“Yes.” You answer without hesitation. Taking a sip of your drink, you feel the cool liquid rush down your throat, doing little to calm your quickening pulse.

“I could tell.” He laughs as he takes a swig of his beer. Jae considers you for a second, eyeing you with a certain intensity that makes you warm both inside and out. “You were having a bit too much fun. It was a bit distracting, honestly.” He continues in a playful tone.

You look at him questioningly. 

Instead of answering, he just moves closer to you. The bar is getting more crowded by the minute as people try to refill their drinks after the performance. Your breath hitches in your throat as you feel the heat from his warm body radiate towards you. Bar goers begin yelling out their orders, and along with the music blasting from the speakers, it becomes harder and harder to hear each other.

Jae places a steady arm around your shoulders, shielding you from the wave of people moving towards the counter. He leans close to your ears, his breath causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. “How about we get some food? It’s way too hectic here.”

You’re not sure what comes over you, then. Maybe it’s the close proximity with Jae that messes with your brainwaves, or the reassuring squeeze of your shoulders, or perhaps just the comfort of leaning against his sturdy form in a room full of strangers. You reach within yourself and find the courage to utter the next few words, “Are you taking me out on a date?”

“Am I what?”

“I’m not repeating myself!” You laugh, ushering him towards the general direction of the exit. 

He trails closely behind you, pretending that he didn’t hear you. “Say it again! I can’t hear –”

You shoot a pointed look towards him once the two of you make it outside. The constant pushing and shoving ensures you’re pressing flush against him, his arm never straying far from you. 

The night air is chilly, and you feel a shiver work its way through your bones. Wordlessly, he pulls out a hoodie from his backpack that you didn’t even realise he had with him. Jae helps you pull it over your head, and work your arms through the sleeves. You’re momentarily winded by how his scent swallows you whole. When you emerge from the oversized hoodie, completely engulfed by the fabric, he helps to sweep your hair away from your eyes. 

He smiles at you like you’re the best thing that ever happened to him. His gaze is soft and sparkly, his gentle touch lingering on you. You wish it stays there forever.

“Jae…”

“C’mon, let’s get out of here.”

───────────

And that’s how you ended up back where it all started – within the four walls of the elevator.

Lingering touches, harmonious giggles, and smiles that hide more than you’re both willing to put into words. 

The two of you stumble in unceremoniously, drunk off of something richer and more potent than alcohol.

If you were asked to recall what your conversation was about, you probably wouldn’t be able to give an accurate recount. Your ears could only register the bright notes of his laughter, high and loose, yet familiar all the same. Something about the set, perhaps, or his nerves, but you really couldn’t pay attention to much else other than his warm body against yours.

It feels like you were wrapped up in a warm bubble, away from the rest of the world. As the elevator ascends to the ninth floor in what feels like the longest ride ever, you find yourself welcoming the touch of his arms as they snake around your hips, pulling you real close.

Jae presses his lips against your hair, deeply inhaling the whiffs of shampoo that he only ever caught briefly on your morning coffee runs. It makes him lightheaded, but in the best way. “Hmm,” He hums, and you feel rather than hear him mumble against your skin. “You know, I love being around you.”

You giggle against his chest, fingers absentmindedly playing with the belt loops of his jeans. “Really?”

“Yeah, I was never much of a morning person, but somehow you changed me.” Jae pulls away slightly, and you have to actively fight the whine that works up your throat at the lack of close contact. “I love how I am around you.”

“Me too.” You admit, looking deep into his eyes, unconsciously nodding and moving closer to him. Now that you got a taste of him, you couldn’t bear being apart. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

A few moments of silence follows, as the two of you sway in each other’s arms. Jae’s eyes break away from yours and travel slightly down, down, and down, towards your lips. As if on cue, you bite on your lips, heartbeat thundering against your ribcage.

“Don’t,” He groans, pained. “Don’t do that, you’re so distracting…”

You laugh a little, but refuse.

Jae reaches to cup your face in his hand, his thumb working to pull your lips away. “Can I…” He breathes, leaning in on instinct. 

Ten seconds, you think, until you can finally indulge in your curiosities (recently, your waking thoughts are preoccupied by how it feels to have his lips touch yours).

“Can I… you know?”

You couldn’t help laughing at his nervous demeanour. “What? I don’t know.”

“Y/N, please…” Jae whines, his thumb caressing the side of your cheek with a feather light touch, conveying his pleas. He hopes you get the message and stop torturing him already, for goodness sake. For what it’s worth, he’s waited long enough.

You shrug your shoulders, settling deeper into his hold, enjoying the skin-to-skin contact with someone who was always in your orbit but felt just beyond your reach. 

Jae licks his own lips nervously. “I… Kiss… Can I –”

You don’t let him finish his sentence. 

You grab him by the collar and pull him towards you. The moment your lips touch, the haziness in your mind clears. Nothing matters in that moment other than the feeling of him against you, pressed so impossibly close. It’s like you woke up from a deep slumber, refreshed, or the first satisfying breath after being trapped in an enclosed place. Time slows as your lips move languidly against his, your hands exploring on its own accord, first trailing down his shirt, then up to hook behind his neck, clutching his hair in earnest. At the same time, he walks you backwards and presses you against the metal wall. His palm, big and warm, cradles your face in his grasp, as though you’re his most prized possession. You let him, melting in his touch.

The seconds pass in this way, the two of you too lost in each other to care about anything else around you. And you want to keep going too, if not for the inconvenience that is breathing. 

You pull away reluctantly, filling your lungs with fresh air, taking a moment to recover because – what was that? You feel like your brain is turning into mush.

 Jae can’t seem to get enough. He holds you close against him, his arms tightening around your middle, taking a big inhale as he buries his face in your neck. 

“You have no idea…” He begins, breathless. “No idea how long I’ve waited to do that…”

You just giggle softly in response, not trusting your lips to form words yet. You just snuggle closer to him.

“Do you wanna come back to mine? I’ll order food.”

You nod shyly.

“Also, what’s taking this lift so long…” He tears away from you briefly to stare at the buttons, only to realise that neither of you even pressed them in the first place.

Laughter spills from your lips at the mishap, clearly both of you were too caught up in each other to notice.

And so the rest of the night ends with lots of fried chicken, cheesy rom-coms and cuddling on his couch. 

(Of course, he lets you steal the duvet at night, preferring to spoon you instead in search of warmth.)

(He lets you steal his hoodie too, and a t-shirt or two. Or a few.)

(And his heart.)