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bulletswithribbons · 8 months ago

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Loving and fearless

TateLangdonxFem!reader // NSFW

Summary: You find out your boyfriend is a mass murderer. He's worried about what you will think of him but he never knew you weren't a good girl from the very start.

Warnings: Smut (obv), unprotected piv, sex with feelings, implied murder...

Word count: 1.7k

a/n: Ok so sorry I took really long to write a new fic I was working on a Part 2 for my Kai one but then thought of this. Had to write it down to satisfy my pookies since I didn't take so long writing it. Basically why it's short.

𝕱𝖚𝖑𝖑 𝖋𝖎𝖈 𝖚𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖚𝖙 ⋆⭒˚.⋆𝜗𝜚

“Are you scared?” He asks. He wasn’t trying to hide it, nor deny it. He just wanted you to accept it as it is. He was no saint, but so weren’t you. No sugarcoating things for this once at least.

You shook your head slowly, “no.” You said, and it wasn’t a lie. At least yet. You weren’t afraid of him, you knew him better than anyone. Or maybe that’s what you chose to believe. You didn’t want to change anything about him or live in a deluded world of your own thinking of him as someone he isn’t. As fucked-up as it sounds, you liked that psychopathic trait of his.

Tate tilts his head partly to the side, daring you to say that thing you were desperate to.

“I doubt it,” he replied, regret somehow dripping from his tone. You knew he didn’t regret shooting up his school nor all the murders he committed, rather of the way you found out. He had already apologized, what else would you need? Him to get on his knees and beg you to forgive him? He would gladly do that.

“I want you to embrace it,” you finally said, the thought lingering in your head for a while now. You just didn’t know how to express it without sounding like a weirdo.

“Embrace it?” He repeats after you, confused, a hint of surprise in his voice.

You nod.

“You killed them. There’s nothing you can do about it anymore. You’re troubled Tate. Stop hiding that side and accept it as a part of you. You can’t run away from your past and you being trapped here actually proves my point.” Your tone was comforting, all loving. You were one of the very few –the only one– that actually cared about him in a non-twisted way. He wasn’t ready to lose that. He would never be.

“But would you accept it as a part of me? You want me to go around killing people and then come back to you so you can clean the blood of others from my own hands?” He asks, his voice quavering, a bit shaky and unclear, he was upset and you knew he's on the verge of crying.

And Bingo. There it is. Those poor souls, he doesn’t care about them, but rather what you would think. Nothing matters as long as you’re still there standing by his side. Was it unhealthy? Maybe. But for you it only made your relationship stronger.

“Isn’t that what you would like?” You ask, your hand darting to his face brushing his blonde strands of hair away from his face as you cup his cheek.

A single tear runs down his cheek as he smiles lightly. His dimples looked more adorable than ever. All he ever wanted was to be appreciated. And he is.

The sight of him taking two steps closer to you had your heart speeding up, even though he's your boyfriend you can't help but feel like a silly little girl with a silly little crush. Except it wasn't little, nor silly. His hand grips at your waist as he pulls you to him, getting rid of every inch that separates your bodies. His head tilts slightly before he attacks your face with his lips embracing yours in a hungry lustful open-mouthed kiss.

Your hands quickly find the back of his neck, pulling him even closer and deepening the kiss while his tongue pushes through and fights yours for domination.

He was completely teasing you, or maybe not, maybe he just craved you so bad. His covered erection was tempting your core, begging for release. One of his hands slides down your shirt and cups your boob, squeezing tightly. A soft moan escapes your lips and onto the kiss.

At that time, you thought maybe a somewhat evil spirit took over your boyfriend as he aggressively pinned you against the wall, too impatient to hop on the bed. But you know it was no evil spirit. There was no need to keep on finding why’s to his actions.

He yanks your shorts down to your knees then grips at your thigh lifting it up to his hip, probably to get better access. Meanwhile his other hand unzips his jeans and pulls them down along with his boxers freeing his rock hard dick. Yeah now it's confirmed that it was to gain better access. Tate always gets hard easily, that was a fact you knew. Whether it was a silly little cuddle session or you whispering the randomest topics in his ear. It didn’t bother you, you actually loved it. It enthralled you.

Your arms wrap around his neck while his breath fans against your nape. Each passing second your pussy screams for him to fuck the shit out of you even louder.

His digits found their way to your inner thigh, trailing toward your center. Once they reach your clit, his pointer finger runs up and down the thin soaked fabric of your underwear. He taps on the wet spot a few times, teasing you or maybe to later remember how desperate you were for him inside you. “This is my way of thanking you, y/n.” He whispers in your ear, your body shuddering at the sound of his voice, excitement surging through your entire temple. Every second passing by the atmosphere gets even hotter.

You nod, “mhm.”

His finger curls at the edge of your panties pulling it to the side, baring your pussy to him and the arousal glistening within.

Tate leans over you even closer, capturing your soft skin between his teeth sucking in deep; while he uses a hand to line his cock up to your dripping entrance. His tip caresses your sensitive bundle of nerves. “I’m not waiting any longer,” He mutters under his breath to your ear as he pushes himself deeper into your cunt and slams into you.

Tate has never ever hidden the fact that he craves you desperately. You loved that he would kill for you but hated how you would too.

You let out a loud moan, if he didn’t know you any better he would’ve thought that was a scream for help. Your hand grabs a fistful of his hair. Your moan made him groan quietly. He loved the sound of you squirming beneath him, and even the sound of your voice when you talk about anything no matter what it was. He couldn’t stop himself, of course not since he couldn’t even wait to hear you screaming his name. Your legs curl around his hips as he thrusted in you deeper, moaning uncontrollably as he feels your tight warm wet walls wrapped around his thick length. “My cock.. Is pure love..” He breathes out. Your eyes hardly widen, Tate isn’t used to dirty talking. Not at all. If anything he was actually nice and making sure you’re ok nearly between every two thrusts. Unless he was jealous or upset with you. But mostly that’s it. Your eyes barely stay wide for 2 seconds before they roll to the back of your head once his tip hit a spot in you that made your moans louder than they already were. “Oh fuck, Tate!” You scream, He slides out slightly then back in forcefully. He didn’t recognize mercy, and your pussy wasn’t getting any of that. His cock pounding into you merciless, unsympathetically, inhumanly. All of the above. Abusing that same specific spot of yours.

His intense tightening in his chest made him hungry for air as he breathed heavily, humping you remorselessly. Your pussy swallowing every inch of him and lubricating like crazy, your own arousal leaking down your pussy and out to your thighs. Such a slut you are for him. Problem is you were shameless about it.

Your grip on his hair tightens, holding on as hard as you can but making sure not to hurt him. You would never. Soft moans are whispered in your ear as he presses his mouth a little harsher against your skin, his fingers tightening on your thighs. His lips trailing kisses up and down your neck, leaving small bites here and there as he slowly makes his way up to your jaw. His hands slide up your thighs and stop at your clit, rubbing it as if his life depends on it, all the while his hips are pounding into you as fast as they can. You arch your back involuntarily immediately once you feel the contact. He groans softly as he feels your arch into his touch, his fingers going inhumanly faster than before.

Seeing how it is, it wouldn't be long for you until you came.

Shockwaves of pure pleasure began to ripple throughout your body. Legs trembling and eyes rolling back. Your face was bright red and a wheezing sound came out of your mouth with every inhale. The perfect combination of his fingers stroking your clit and the fast paced abuse on your cunt was enough to make you see stars. He was chasing his own release and you were begging for yours. You knew you were close.. Real close.. “Tate.. Please.. I’m so fucking close..” You whimper, not knowing what exactly you were begging him for. Tate knows your body well enough to know you were close, he speeds up. Judging by his breathing, you can tell he was getting tired. You let out your moans freely as you feel your orgasm crashing down. A complete mess leaking down your thighs. You can’t hold your back arch anymore but it didn't matter, waves of ecstasy and euphoria taking over your body. Tate wasn't done yet, and although your lips were already burning up, you didn't protest. “Hmph..I love you,” He moaned in between thrusts as they were getting erratic, feeling you cum around his cock was enough for him. But that didn’t stop him from abusing your swollen red cunt until he was fully finished. Tate thrusts into you for a moment longer before you feel his ejaculate drowning your pussy breathing heavily, his release splaying across your walls in ropes. Tears had stained your cheeks.

Tate had you still pinned against the wall, with your legs wrapped around his hips and his hands grabbing your thighs. His now softened dick still in your abused pussy. Why isn’t he pulling out yet? This is the first time he lasted this long. Usually he doesn’t stay so long.

His head was resting on your shoulder, nose burried into your neck. His breathing slowed down steadily and went back to normal.

It felt weirdly comforting.. Him being so close, you didn’t even want him to pull out. Your legs still crossed behind your boyfriend’s back.

“You want me to pull out?” He whispers to you lovingly as he brushes a strand of hair away from your face and tugs it behind your ear.

“No, let’s stay this way for a while..” Your arms wrap around his neck, hugging him close. You can feel him nodding.

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hiraethwrote · 4 months ago

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there's a lightness in him

summary: finally, the day has come where you get the chance to meet gojo. but megumi doesn't handle it as well as you had hoped

[ loner!megumi x popular!reader ]

cw: college au, modern au, f!reader, fluff, gojo cameo, some angst, aged up characters, no use of y/n

word count: 2.9k

You really wanted to meet Gojo.

For reasons unknown to you, Megumi became even more quiet than usual whenever he was brought up — nearly blatantly refusing to talk about him at all.

Your curiosity was obviously peaked — who was this mysterious individual, who through unfortunate circumstances had ended up basically raising what had turned out to be your perfect boyfriend? Was this where Megumi had gotten his closed off demeanour from? Were shared dinners around the dining table spent in utter silence?

The few things you had gathered about Gojo: he was NOT Megumi’s dad. That was the most important thing you’d learned. Because how dumb were you when you simply assumed the adult man he lived with was his father?

You had also learned that there was a new level to Megumi’s frown that always grew deeper whenever he talked to Gojo on the phone. Granted, he was never happy whenever he was on the phone, but it was something entirely different when he talked to his… guardian?

“What do you mean you haven’t met his family?!” Kasumi exclaimed in pure disbelief once you told her, head tilting up from her doomscrolling.

“As far as I understand, there isn’t much family to meet. It’s mostly just this Gojo figure.”

“And that’s his dad?”

“God no, he’ll bite your head off if you assume so, but whoever he is, he’s the closest thing he has to a parental figure.”

She tried to blink away the worst of her surprise. “But you’ve been together since high school.” It seemed like she wanted the statement to be a question, but it definitely came out more as a judgemental remark.

“Look, his family situation isn’t ideal,” you trailed off, thinking about the few things he had actually opened up to you about — both his sister and his absent father, and you had quickly understood family was a fragile topic for him. So whenever you dared approach the situation about Gojo, you just wanted to be cautious in case there was anything serious he just did not want to talk about.

However, lately, the idea of anything seriously worrisome being the issue had slowly ceased to exist. Megumi genuinely only seemed to be annoyed with whatever it was Gojo said or did — nothing graver than that.

“Does that mean you’ve never been to his house?” Yet another shocked question fired at you.

“No, I’ve been to his house plenty of times,” you chuckled. “It just so happens that Gojo is never home. He’s apparently sent out of town a lot for work.”

She quirked an eyebrow, shaking her head and turning her attention back to her phone. “Your boyfriend is kind of a weirdo, not gonna lie.”

A small, smitten smile automatically grew on your lips. “Yeah, I guess he is,” you said, probably mostly to yourself.

“I have to go now.”

“What, already?” You whined, bottom lip sticking out in a dramatic pout as Megumi got up from his seat beside you. He met your pleading gaze, leaning forward to capture your lips in a tender kiss to ease his departure.

“It’s probably gonna take a while today,” he sighed, walking over to the door. Before his hand had even managed to clasp around the handle, you were already at his side, staring at him with doe eyes while your arms were tucked behind your back — like you always did when you wanted something.

“Then why don’t I come along?” batting your eyelashes at him.

Whatever your ulterior motive was, he was weak for the look you gave him — sucking in his cheeks to smother the smirk you were slowly pulling from him.

“You wanna come along?”

“I wanna be with you as much as possible!”

“You gonna help with errands, too?”

Your innocent smile was pushed into pursed lips instead. “I can watch?”

He instantly let out a taunting scoff. “Cute,” he sighed, placing a quick kiss on your cheek and opening the door to leave. Before he got too far, you already grabbed ahold of his wrist.

“So, you’re going home for these errands, right?”

And once you said ‘home’, Megumi immediately understood why you had suddenly decided to be so persistent in tagging along for his duties, when you always preferred he just get it over with so he could return to you once he was done.

And his body slowly started to tense up, because unlike you, Megumi really did not want you to meet Gojo.

Why? Well, Megumi could list hundreds of reasons why he wanted to shield you from the menace he had lived with most his life. But he knew those reasons were all superficial, and he never really dared put into words what really plagued him about the situation.

“Megumi,” you spoke his name softly, slowly letting go of his wrist. “I want to meet your family.”

There it was again, your genuine interest in him — somehow always catching him off guard despite you proving it to him from the very first moment. He just didn’t feel deserving of it.

It was written all over your features just how important this was to you — guilt striking him as he couldn’t understand why he had been so selfish as to deprive you of meeting his family, when he had no real reason to.

But what wasn’t he willing to do for you? With a clear of his throat, he tried to set aside his ever present anxiety about the situation, grumbling a low “fine” as he pulled out his phone to send a quick heads up to Gojo.

“Wait, really?” The fragile sentiment in your voice was replaced by an airy relief, not quite expecting him to surrender so easily — especially considering how long you’d bothered him about it all.

“Has to happen eventually, right? Might as well get it over with.”

The nonchalant shrug of his shoulders and the look in his eyes was all it took for you to feel your stomach tickle with butterflies — you saw he was trying to power through his stubbornness for you. He wasn't going to let his own struggles triumph how important this was for you.

“You’re just so-“ endless giddiness spilling over in your expression, unable to finish your sentence. You cupped his face and placed the sweetest kiss on his cheek, before you rather abruptly interrupted your own actions by yanking him after you towards his car.

For the entirety of the ride, you held a mostly one sided conversation, hoping your casual talk would calm him down — but it didn’t stop his knuckles from slowly turning paler when his fingers gnawed at the steering wheel, hoping you didn’t catch how his teeth were grinding against each other.

But he wanted to try — for you.

Pulling into the driveway, surrounded by the familiar scenery of the neighbourhood he grew up in, none of his nerves seemed to disintegrate. Even when he opened the door for you (like he always did) and you laced your fingers with his, the nerves remained knotted inside him.

“If you really don’t want to do this-“

“No, ‘s fine,” he interrupted you softly, reactively squeezing your hand to ground himself. “Let’s just get-“

A blaring voice shouting your name cut through the sad tension, both you and Megumi jumping at the sudden outburst.

Capturing your wide eyed glare, you were met with a freakishly tall man staring directly at you with the most intense blue-eyed stare one could imagine and untamed hair of the purest white — and lastly, a somewhat off putting grin that was overflowing with outgoing charm.

This was Gojo? The Gojo? The very same who had raised your stoic and quiet boyfriend? The one who seemed to have too much pent up energy in his body, despite the size of it? This was not at all what you had expected.

You were about to take a polite bow to introduce yourself, but Gojo simply waved his hand. “No need for formalities. Feel like I know you already.” His smile never wavered, even when he took a step back to let you in.

Megumi was already grumbling to himself, unable to stop how his fingers clenched harder on your hand as a reaction to Gojo’s first appearance — and heat was rising up his neck, slowly colouring the tips of his ears red with embarrassment.

“So glad you finally managed to convince him,” Gojo nearly sung, leading all three of you into the kitchen. “I’ve tried desperately since that day he first visited you. But Megumi never listens to me.”

He was so far from the character you had created in your mind, taking some time let the new impression replace the old one. He leaned so casually against the kitchen counter, while Megumi acted on instinct and pulled out the stool for you, taking a seat next to you.

“I couldn’t quite believe my eyes when he came back home that evening, and he smiled. You know how hard I try to make him smile?”

“Oh, it’s not so hard,” you laughed along, turning to look at your boyfriend only to see he was looking at Gojo with chronically furrowed eyebrows. The lump in your stomach formed immediately, hating just how displeased Megumi appeared to be — reaching out to grab his hand under the table, head turning to look at you, smoothing the crinkles on his forehead. You started to believe he wasn’t even aware of the way he was looking at Gojo, because all evidence of annoyance was gone when he shifted his eyes towards you. “He smiles plenty.”

“Hmpf,” Gojo pouted, arms crossing loosely over his chest. “Well, maybe you just share the same bad sense of humor.” The comment caught you a little by surprise before the genuine laugh slipped past your lips, while Megumi went back to shooting him an ugly scowl.

“I’ve been wanting to meet you too for a while.”

“Is that so?” His tone sounded accusatory as he met Megumi’s eyes. It didn’t take a genius to understand the subtext that Megumi had served him excuse after excuse on why he’d never introduced you.

“Yes, but my schedule is crazy busy,” the lie rolling of your tongue so easily, Megumi almost believing it himself. “Something always came up whenever we tried to make it happen.” It was a small gesture, yet Megumi’s heart fluttered lightly at how you tried to make this as comfortable as possible for him.

“I’m very pleased you finally got the time,” he beamed, seemingly buying into the lie.

And then the conversation flowed as smoothly as butter. He asked questions about your studies and your family, showing a real interest in your life. And he was funny — the clutching-your-stomach type of funny. You didn’t even notice when Kuro and Shiro walked into the kitchen, Shiro lightly nudging your hand for pets before both of the dogs laid down by Megumi’s feet.

But the conversation consisted mostly of your and Gojo’s voice, Megumi only contributing with a weak “hm” or “sure” whenever fitting, which definitely put a thorn in the atmosphere of the company.

“How about we get around to those errands?” You suggested, bringing an end to the constant rambling you knew Megumi had probably prayed would stop.

“Yeah, we probably should,” he mumbled lowly, quickly jumping out of the seat he had been glued to since you arrived. “I just have to get something upstairs-“

“Just go,” you giggled, knowing he was about to ask if you were alright with being left alone for a second.

Megumi hurried away, leaving you and Gojo alone. It didn’t take long before he broke the silence again.

“He’s not usually this cold towards me.” His tone had completely changed, now full of sentiment, one you could only assume came from genuine love for Megumi. “It doesn’t look like it, but I’m sure he secretly likes me. The death glares are at least kept to a minimum when it’s just the two of us.”

“He has a tendency to be a little cranky.” He smiled then, a small and almost shy smile.

“I’m going to make this quick, because he’ll be back down any second,” he took a deep breath as he straightened his posture. “After you came along… I’ve never seen him like this.” Your breath hitched in your throat at the slightly ominous statement. “There’s a lightness in him I’ve never seen before. You clearly mean a lot to him, which is why he exaggerates his frown. He’s just being protective.”

With further clarification, your shoulders found rest, starting to shuffle towards the front door, Gojo close behind. “Believe it or not, he brings me lightness too.”

“No, I believe it,” he smiled as Megumi came down the stairs, both of his dogs following him. “I see it in you too.”

“Ready to go?” Megumi asked in a monotone voice, already having put on his shoes and opened the door.

“It was nice meeting you, Gojo,” you bowed.

“Looking forward to the next time.” Megumi didn’t manage to fully conceal the quiet groan that escaped him, both you and Gojo deciding to not pay it any attention.

“I’ll be back in a few days,” Megumi sighed, already halfway down the pathway, simply waving goodbye over his shoulder.

“I’ll miss you!” Gojo yelled dramatically after him, your boyfriend never sparing him a second glance. While he opened the car door for you, you decided to pay Gojo the decency of a smile and a tiny wave.

Megumi did not hesitate to start the engine, his childhood home quickly disappearing behind you.

Then silence hit — thick silence, nearly suffocating on all the thoughts you could so clearly tell was swarming Megumi’s mind.

“I like him,” you breathed, leaning back on the headrest.

“Yeah? I’m glad.”

“You don’t sound glad.”

“Sorry.”

His eyes were glued ahead, as if there was nothing more interesting than the boring scenery and the asphalt going straight ahead.

“Megumi?”

“Hmm?”

“Why didn’t you want me to meet Gojo?”

He didn’t answer — he only let out a deep breath through his nose which you suspected had been trapped in his lungs since the moment you first pulled up in his driveway. Then he pulled over, the car slowly rolling to a halt.

Your pulse quickened, eyeing how his hands had left the steering wheel only for him to pick at the skin around his nails — a nervous tick you only saw him do when he was extremely anxious.

“I don’t want to mess this up.”

His confession was quiet, and had it not been for the fact that there was not a sound in the car or any distractions outside, you would not have been able to hear it.

“Meeting family… it brings expectations. And if I am to mess this up-“

“Don’t say that, you’re not going to mess this up!” You cut him off, hands cutting through the air to intertwine your fingers with his, stopping his bad habit.

“You don’t know that.” His voice still came out low, eyes directed at your hands. “After last time-“

“Stop it,” you interrupted again, bringing one hand to his face to force him to look at you, breaking your heart when his eyes had turned glossy. “We’re past that now, okay?”

“I know we are, it’s just-“ he took another deep breath, “for some reason, I just felt like that if I kept you from meeting him, I could contain the damage and disappointment if I were to screw it up.”

“I didn’t know you felt this way,” you sniffled quietly, fighting not to let the tears take over. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know,” he averted his gaze again, back to fixating on his lap. “Scared, I suppose.”

“You’re not in this alone. You can always talk to me about these things, okay?”

“Mhmm,” the weak sound was barely heard.

Once again you cupped his face, wanting his eyes on you when you said “I’m on your team, Megumi.” His nostrils flared, not wanting the tears to spill. “Please just let me be on your team!”

Yet again he took another deep breath to steady himself, slowly beginning to nod along before leaning into your touch. “Okay,” he whispered.

He didn’t say it, but you could sense how he had actively reached within himself to fint sparks of confidence to give himself over to your request.

Megumi was just used to doing things on his own, never depending on anyone but himself. And up until he met you, that had worked perfectly fine. But faced with a relationship, he had found himself between a rock and a hard place, where exposing himself emotionally to another human being was necessary for it to work — and you were worth every ounce of dedication. Every other aspect of his life had turned miniscule in comparison to you.

He hadn’t exactly made it easy for you to cooperate when it came to his feelings. But that stopped now, fully surrendering to the fragility one could not avoid in a relationship. He knew you’d be there.

“You want me to drive?”

“No, it’s fine,” he sighed, the evidence of tears gone as he sat back up in his seat. He removed your hand from his face to place a soft kiss on your knuckles.

“You’re not still going to run errands, are you?” Your pulse finally started to calm down when you spotted a small smirk lurking at the corner of his lips.

“Not a chance.”

“My place and order in?”

“Sounds perfect.”

tags (taglist is open)

@sad-darksoul @nyahctrl @ssetsuka @aceakariii @chxlexauriana

@ps-forgetmenot @thejujvtsupost @acowboykisser @rixo-19

@aestheticallyvini @iheartlinds @rory-cakes @tiffanyandrson

a/n okay idk what's happening but i'm not quite vibing with my writing lately... words aren't wording iykwim... however, did yall catch me teasing some angst in here tihi?? look forward to that

#— ଓ my creative corner #loner megumi x popular reader #dividers by cafekitsune #jjk #jjk oneshot #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen oneshot #jujutsu kaisen x reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi fushiguro oneshot #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi #fushiguro #jjk megumi #fushiguro megumi #jjk fushiguro #megumi x reader #jujutsu kaisen megumi

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rafesdollette · 1 month ago

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GHOSTED — childhood best friends

x BABYDOLL!reader

SUMMARY: almost eight years of no contact after leaving obx, you run into your childhood best friend at a New Years celebration.

WORD COUNT: 1.5k

AUTHORS NOTE: bombpop series yay or nay?? i'm also tired and lowkey high off the paint fumes in my room so if something doesn't make sense, look away.

WARNINGS: mention of drug and alcohol addiction, kinda angsty

You never thought you'd come back, no one did. Leaving outer banks was tough on everyone that knew you, but Rafe struggled the most. So bad, that after six months of 'keeping in touch' through texts and long video calls, he cut you out of his life.

It all happened slowly. The rush to get off calls, one word responses to texts. Then one day everything just stopped completely. No explanation ever came either, which made it all worse for you.

Rafe didn't do it to hurt you of course, he wouldn't do that to you. He just couldn't take not seeing you in person or helping you sneak out of your house at night to go walk on the beach or doing stupid stuff to piss off Sarah.

He missed you dearly, especially the small silly things like saying "over the sun" instead 'over the moon' when you were happy about something.

So he took the solution he thought was best at the time, and just disappeared. But as he grew older, the more he came to regret his decision and realized his feelings we're much deeper.

He didn't care how many people told him he was 'too young' to know what love was at that time, he loved you. And there's probably a huge part of him that still does.

So that's why he's been staying cooped up at home since he heard you were back and visiting the island. He definitely wanted to see you, but what was he even supposed to say when he did? There was a plethora of things he wanted to say but he was never good with words, so he wasn't even sure where he was supposed to start.

He knew he wouldn't be able to avoid you the whole time you were on the island but he didn't expect to see you so soon, he hadn't prepared. He probably should have figured you'd come to the gathering for new years at tannyhill, it was always your favorite part of the year.

He's positive he looks like a weirdo right now, practically hiding behind Kelce to stop you from seeing him. “Dude just go talk to her, she won't kill you.” Kelce said, trying to nudge him forward.

“Hell, she might! She's probably still pissed.” Rafe mumbles as he continues to attempt staying out of sight.

“I doubt she's still holding that grudge, Rafe.” Kelce remarked with an eye roll.

Rafe knew he was probably annoying the hell out of his friend right now, but he couldn't help it. He was scared and anxious, which was new for him. He was typically very sure of himself but he felt an immense amount of guilt for pushing you away all of those years ago.

“Well, you're spotted anyway” Kelce said, nodding towards you on the other side of the backyard, looking at Rafe as Sarah pointed towards him.

“Shit.” Rafe muttered, hesitating for a moment before awkwardly waving in your direction.

He expected you to just wave back and get back to whatever you were doing, maybe even ignore him. But you walked back over to him. fuck.

“Uh, hi...y/n” Rafe said, avoiding eye contact

“Hey, Rafe.” You respond with a slight smile. You were glad to see him, despite what he did.He's not sure why, but a little bit of his tension relived when you spoke. At least you didn't seem too upset yet.

“So uh...how have you been?” He asked hesitantly.

“I've been...okay. I graduated high school a couple of years ago and now I'm majoring in fashion design. Not much is new besides that. How about you though?” He knew you would be doing good things with your life, you always said you would.

“I've been good too, nothing new.” He lied. Well actually, it wasn't a full lie. Nothing huge was actually new with him. He was just leaving out the part about his drinking problems and drug addiction.

You could tell that he was hiding something, but you didn't press him on it. You knew he wouldn't tell you anyway. Maybe with a little more time. “You've changed.” You said softly.

He didn't respond at first, instead looking away.

“Yeah, I guess I have..you've changed too.” He said, taking in how you had grown. You honestly looked exactly how he imagined you growing up.

“It has been a while, hasn't it? Eight years, at least.” you said

He nods in agreement “Too long…” he muttered. He knew he could've reached out again at any time, so why didn't he? He honestly didn't know. He had missed you, he'd thought of you often. But something had kept him from contacting you.

You noticed his distant expression and wondered what he could be thinking about. You thought back to the day you left, the day you both promised each other to stay in touch. And that promise remained, until it just...didn't.

At first, you waited for his message. Then you hoped for a call. But as months turned to years and still no contact from him, you figured he just didn't care anymore.

“Hey, how about we go for a walk on the beach? Like we used to?” He suggests. Though it was clear it wasn't really a suggestion, more of a demand since he already started walking towards his car and expecting you to follow.

“Oh, uh sure.” you agree, walking with him as he leads you to his car.

The car ride is mostly silent besides the occasional awkward small talk and the quiet music playing on the radio.

As you both walked along the shoreline, the only sounds were the soft crashing of the waves and your footsteps in the sand. It was all so familiar, but still awkward. Neither of you knew where to even start.

The silence continued for a while longer until he spoke up, breaking the quiet. “I'm sorry” he starts in a whisper “I should've given you some sort of explanation or not have ghosted you in the first place. It wasn't at all fair to you and I just...” he sighs, running a hand down his face. Why was it so hard to put his thoughts into words?

“Rafe...” he waves a hand, cutting you off before you can utter anything else. He just needed to get this out already, he's been holding it in for way too long.

You weren't expecting an apology, at least this soon. Rafe had never been the type to admit he was wrong, you knew that. So why he was apologizing to you, the girl he hadn't seen since he was thirteen, was obscure.

“I missed you a lot, okay?” He begins again after a moment of silence. “I know I should have just waited for you to come visit.”

“I really wanted to keep in contact with you, to call you or text you or...anything, really. But every time I tried, I would freeze up. I thought keeping in touch would still be like you were here. But, it wasn't. I felt like I had to do something to deserve hearing from you. And I couldn't think of anything.” He admitted, feeling pretty pathetic about the whole thing. He never had any kind of trouble talking to people, it was something he was good at. But now he was unable to even type a simple message to you.

You could see that he was really beating himself up over the whole situation, and you didn't particularly enjoy seeing that. “It's okay, Rafe. I understand.” You said, though honestly, you don't.

“No, it's not!” he retorted, getting irritated with himself all over again. “I should've done something.” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. Why hadn't he just sucked it up and sent you a stupid text years ago?

You didn't really have a way to respond to that. So you just continued walking until the silence became too heavy once more.

“Look.” Rafe sighed, stopping in his tracks and turning towards you. “I'm sorry. I've already said that multiple times, I know. But I truly am.” he mumbled, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. “I'm not sure why I'm even telling you this, but I guess I was just hoping that...maybe we could start over?” He said slowly.

Start over? What did that even entail? You were torn. You missed the friendship you both had all those years ago. And the idea of rekindling it was nice. Still, the bitterness and confusion inside made it hard to fully trust him. “How would we even do that? I haven't seen you in years, we're practically strangers now.” You state.

He was expecting a little bit of resistance, but it still stung a bit to hear it from you. “I know it's been a long time, but..” he paused, searching for the words to make you understand, “look, I miss this.” he said, waving a hand between the two of you. “I've missed you, I've missed being able to talk to you. The last what, eight years? I've just.. I've been feeling like something has been missing but I couldn't figure out what. And now I realize it's...it's you.”

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sulumuns-dootah · 2 months ago

Note

Okok, I don’t know if your taking reqs…but I read your ‘avoiding them because of a dare’ and got the idea…what if it wasn’t because of a dare, but because you were threatened into avoiding them by a decently strong demon, stronger than us at least

WHB kings' reaction to MC avoiding them due to being threatened by a different demon

⟡ Masterlist ⟡

A/N: Ooh, your mind! This is some juicy idea right there :D

The demon threatening MC is in all instances the same: a Hades demon with the ability to lie and be invisible (and won't heistate to use either to make sure MC doesn't just run to the kings)

Warning: Things get kinda dark

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Satan noticed you haven't been around much

And whenever you happened to be in his viscinity, you looked panicked and tried to get away as soon as possible

Did he do something?

Emergency meeting! Nobles assemble!

Everyone is helpless and has no answers

Then Amy bursts into the room:

"Ayo, I think this might have something to do with this weirdo from Hades that's been hanging around here pretty much since this all started?"

And everyone including Satan lights up like !!!

So the next time you're somewhere alone Amy's gang pulls up and Amy tries to get some answers

But you're too affraid your stalker is somewhere nearby and won't hesiatte to do something to you within the blink of an eye if you tell

So Amy's guys leave

And ofc, once they're out of there, he appears

Just as he's about to say something, Satan appears out of nowhere and... uh... let's the demon know the full power of Satan's wrath

༺☆༻

This time it's actually Bimet who notices your absence

He doesn't even bother to tell Mammon, because he'd think it's another one of those bets

But this time it feels kinda sketchy to Bimet

So he looks up your Tartaros bank statement to see where you've been spending you money

...

Why are you buying self-defense items and books on how to fight demons stronger than you?

Okay, now that has to alarm even Mammon

Bimet storms into Mammon's office without a care in the world and reveals all his findings

Somewhere around that time you start noticing meeting the same demons over and over again and it's almost like they're all just observing you

Nah... It has to be your paranoia getting to you so yous hake it off

Until your demon stalker catches yoiu off guard by pulling you into some back alley between shops

You don't even have the chance to scream and the moves from your book are useless too

At this point you're already accepting that his is the way you die...

But then the three demons you've been seeing everywhere flood after you and the next thing you know, your stalker's on the ground and one of them is making sure you're okay

༺☆༻

This situation kinda poses a question: if two demons are invisible, do they see each other or not? i would imagine that either invisibility is a different layer of reality and they would then see each other... or it's not that and they wouldn't see each other

Anyways...

Leviathan would know from the beginning since Foras is looking after you most of the time

If your stalker is smart enough to somehow figure out the times you're alone, he might actually pull it off

If it weren't for Foras immediatelly noticing the change of your demeanor since the last time he was around

He will ask you what is going on, but if you don't tell him, he'll have to tell Leviathan

So you tell him and eventually, with a bit of a help from Glasyalabolas, you come up with a plan

The next time he comes to threaten you, you say a special phrase, which will summon all the nobles to your side and they'll deal with him

Unfortunatelly that plan failed succesfully in experience

Your stalker did come up to you in another absence of Foras, but Leviathan himself just happened to be around and heard everything he said

Yeah, that guy is now a permanent ceiling decoration in the Hades castle

༺☆༻

Talking about near-constant supervision

Your stalker's plan would've worked out if it weren't for one small, buzzing, tiny problem

Even on the go, Beel wants to know where you are, what you're doing and so on

To you it's already normal so you don't even notice the constant buzzing sound following your around

The stupid demon doesn't even have the chance to finish his threat to you before a familiar chuckle signifies danger

It shouldn't be so satisfying to see the fear in your assiliant's eyes, but here we are

With a sliver of hope, he turns around to run away, but Beel's having none of it

Beel catches him under the neck and hugs him close to himself while looking at you mischievously

"Soo~ Y/N! What do you think I should do about your friend over here?"

༺☆༻

Similarly like with the dare, Belphie would notice your absence but won't think much of it

So when he casually asks Beleth what you're up to and what's gotten you busy and only sees blank stares of realisation on all of his nobles' faces, the hunt is on

You're just somewhere out in nature, already given up all hope and trying to get reclaimed by nature when a black void swallows you up without any prior notice

It feels like you're floating and getting crushed by the nothing around you

But then as you looka round, you see Belphie who looks way too awake

Oh shit

You're gonna die

!!!

Okay, you don't die, but Belphie questions you in more of a bad cop way

After you hastily explain your situation, ending with tears in your eyes, Belphie just smirks and walks over to you

As he hugs you, the void around you starts to dissipate and you start feeling something soft underneath you

Well... To be fair, your stalker would be really dumb to try doing something to you while you're in the very same bed with the king of Sloth himself

༺☆༻

Ignoring the fact that this is literally the canon :D

Let's just say that you've been around Asmodeus long enough to get infected with is energy

Staying away from him at that point becomes agonisingly painful

The heat is always there and it seems like nobody except for him is able to lessen it even if for a few hours

So sorry, random Hades demon, not gonan happen

From that point on you decide to stay in Abaddon because which sane demon from outside Hell would voluntarily go to Abaddon?

And if you happen to venture out, you always make sure to be with another demon

If you tell about your predicament some other fellow Abbadonians, they'll pose many interesting questions and scenarios:

Would he recognise if it was some other demon disguised as you?

and

If he did cause you pain and you seemed to enjoy it, would he be disgusted or encouraged by it?

༺☆༻

Avoiding Lucifer wasn't so hard since he barely leaves his ward of the hospital

But still, even going to the hospital was a potential risk of meeting him

So just make sure you don't need a doctor and you're good, simple...

Well it would be, if the crazed demon didn't leave you every so often with a warning in a form of you waking up in the morning with few cuts and they only keep getting worse

To the point that you have no other choice but to go to Paradise Lost and ask one of the nobles to stitch your wounds together

Buer, bless him, did eventually agree to keep your visit a secret

So everything went well, right? Nope

A certain baby dragon was so excited that you visited the hospital after so long that he jingled to Lucifer's room the instant he heard your voice

So while you're anxiusly waiting to be discharged, your heart sinks the moment Lucifer walks into the infirmary

He... seems calm and collected?

Luci just reads you file and casually looks over your treated wound, running his finger over the bandages

"I see you've been well, Y/N. Haven't seen you here lately. Try to keep them as clean and sterile as possible, okay?"

Somehow you make your way out of the hospital kinda... disappointed...? No scene or anything?

(This is getting to long so I'll just summarise)

After you're out of the hospital, the demon attacks you but the second he lays his hand on you, he's frozen i place and Lucifer appears out of nowhere

Turns out that Luci drew a protective sigil on your bandages to alert him when your attacker tries to do something again

#what in hell is bad #what in “hell” is bad?#whb satan #whb mammon #whb leviathan #whb beelzebub #whb belphegor #whb asmodeus #whb lucifer

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roanniom · 2 years ago

Note

I wanna say best friend Steve, who doesn’t get why you’re insecure and wants to hype you up…

Reflections

Best Friend!Steve Harrington x Fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, friends to lovers, light angst from body image issues but it resolves, PIV sex / mirror sex, praise, groping, a LOT of fluff

You’re getting ready for a party and he’s waiting for you but you’re taking foreeeeever and he’s so BORED. He’s flopped on your bed with an arm over his eyes moaning about how late you two will be. But then he realizes you’ve been in your closet for a long time and you’re really quiet.

“Babe? C’mon, what’s going on? Get outta there.”

When you finally do, Steve’s eyes go wide. He’s never seen you in something so form fitting. Something that hugs every delicious curve and exposes the hills and valleys of you. His mouth goes dry and suddenly he’s feeling all hot and clammy like a fucking teenager again.

Keep it together, Harrington. You used to run shit and now you’re getting stiff over your best friend? He swallows thickly at the thought and wrenches his gaze up to your face, startled to find you frowning.

“What’s wrong?” he asks and you throw your arms up into the air.

“What do you mean what’s wrong?” you huff, walking over to the mirror. Steve steps up behind you, doing his best to maintain a respectful distance. Your hands grab meanly at the rounded parts of you and your frown deepens. “This doesn’t fit how I wanted it to and I look awful and -,”

You’re cut off suddenly by the massive snort of a laugh Steve let’s out behind you. You glare daggers at him over your shoulder through the mirror.

“What the fuck, Harrington?!”

Steve continues chuckling but puts his hands heavy on your shoulders, good natured and soothing.

“I’m sorry but you’re fucking crazy if you think you look awful. You’ve gotta be pulling my leg here, babe.”

Your jaw tenses as it does every time he calls you ‘babe.’ Reminding yourself that he’s your friend and nothing more, regardless of the way his fingers are digging into your muscles, you shake your head petulantly.

“I look like bag of lumps,” you argue.

“Nah, you look like one of those paintings we saw on that field trip to that museum in Indianapolis,” he says wistfully, no longer pretending to not be appraising you in the mirror. Despite your lingering trepidations you can’t lie to yourself. You like the feeling of his eyes on your body.

“You calling me Rubenesque?” you ask, finally quirking a smile. Steve’s answer grin is huge, glad you’re no longer frowning.

“Look, I have no idea what that means but if it’s good, then yeah.” He shrugs and takes you in again, scanning your figure with eyes that finally settle on your ass, no longer looking in the mirror. You feel heat spread through you while he licks his lips unconsciously. “But really I’m calling you sexy.”

“Sexy?” you groan, ruffling with discomfort and squeezing your eyes shut against embarrassment. “Shut up, Harrington!”

Steve’s eyebrows shoot up.

“What?”

“Just shut up, will you?”

“Why? Because I called you sexy?” he asks defensively.

You curl in on yourself covering your ears.

“Stop fucking saying that word.”

“No. I won’t, you weirdo,” Steve laughs, grabbing you by the waist and wrestling you back to full height. You fight against him weakly by wriggling in his arms but his grip is firm. He locks eyes with you in the mirror and forces you to hold the contact. “You’re fucking hot, okay? Deal with it.”

“Ok fine, hot is a word that, while an exaggeration, I can maybe live with,” you respond, rolling your eyes. Steve shakes his head. It’s not lost on you that his grip tightens on your waist.

“But you’re also sexy,” he continues to insist. When you loll your head to the side in discomfort he has to steel himself so he doesn’t lean down and inhale the scent of your perfume on your exposed neck. He shakes you a bit and your head lolls to the other side. “What’s your problem with that word.”

“Because, Steve,” you harumph, slapping your hands over your eyes to hide your face. “Calling someone ‘sexy’ implies that people would willingly have sex with them.”

Steve is momentarily silent but the puff of air that you feel on your neck from his sudden and harsh exhale makes goosebumps erupt on your skin. It’s his turn to frown darkly at you.

“Is that a joke?”

“The idea of people willing to have sex with me?” you ask, reaching to dig and elbow back into his ribs. “Yeah. A big joke. Haha Ho Ho. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

Steve’s mouth flattens into a tight line.

“Lots of people want to have sex with you.” He says it bluntly. It’s not an argument. He’s not trying to convince you. Just stating it as if it’s fact.

And now it’s your turn to snort.

“As the sexual object in question, who has been so celibate it’s like her virginity has been reinstated, I’m gonna have to beg to differ with you, buddy.”

Steve stiffens behind you. You’re best friends. He knew about your dry spell, but he hadn’t realized the extent to which it had messed with your confidence. It makes him almost shake with a sudden rage he doesn’t understand. Not at you, of course. But at the situation. At the male population of Hawkins who clearly don’t have fucking eyeballs let alone brains to comprehend what a catch you are.

He’d been nursing his own pathetic crush on you since that first day you’d waltzed into Scoops Ahoy and immediately turned down his over the top advances. You’d laughed him off as completely unserious and the two of you began an unlikely friendship born of teasing, complaining, and messing with Dustin and Robin. Steve had swallowed his attraction to you, letting it surface only in moments when he could appreciate you without you noticing. Which means “appreciating” your ass when you bend over to pick something up. Or “appreciating” your tits when you bend over to pick something else up. The fact that you haven’t noticed how consistently Steve drops shit is honestly concerning.

Steve’s not a particularly eloquent guy. He can be smooth when he wants to be, but if his current season of striking out constantly has taught him anything, it’s the fact that he isn’t getting any better at speaking. All he knows is he’s desperate to change the look on your face that says you don’t believe in your own looks.

He doesn’t think. He just pulls you against the front of his body roughly, closing the gap he had been maintaining.

“Steve, what - oh!” you gasp when you feel it. Him. Hard against you, his fingers digging into your sides to keep you pressed to him. Steve lowers his head to speak in your ear, all the while maintaining eye contact with you in the mirror.

“You’re more than a sexual object,” he says roughly. Then his hands drop to the sides of your thighs, applying pressure as he slides them up to map the slopes of your curves. “But if that’s what you wanna be, believe me. You’ve got takers, babe.”

“Steve…” you mumble under your breath. Your eyes are wide and fixed on him. Lips wetted and parted as you inhale shallowly.

Well. At least he’d managed to get the frown off your face.

Steve does his best to analyze the look in your eyes through the mirror. He doesn’t want to make you more upset accidentally. You gape for a second, remaining silent, and his hands follow the same path back down your curves, sliding around to press into the roundness of your lower belly to push you more securely against his erection.

“You’re…you’re just trying to make me feel better…” you finally say weakly. Steve’s hands slide back up to hold your hips, pressing into the dip of your waist to savor in a supple roundedness present there as well. Your eyelids flutter for a second at the touch.

“So are you saying this is making you feel better?” He asks. You don’t respond so he rolls his eyes. “You think I got hard just to make you feel better? Seriously?”

“Well I don’t know how it works…” you sputter indignantly. Steve laughs into your hair.

“Yeah I don’t believe that for a second. I think you know exactly how it works and that’s why you find it so fun to mess with me all the damn time.”

Your brow furrows and Steve shakes his head.

“Cut the crap. You do shit to turn me on every single day. It has to be intentional at this point.”

Your mouth opens and you struggle to respond.

“I don’t know what you’re…I’m not doing anything.” Then your face screws up in frustration. “If you’re making fun of me, I swear to god, Steve, I’ll -,”

“Does this feel like I’m making fun of you?!” Steve says abruptly, grinding against you. Your dress is so short that this time it rides up with the pressure, making it so that his clothed cock presses between the plush of the backs of your thighs.

You want to protest, but the moan that rips from your throat doesn’t sound much like a protest. Steve groans in your ear and your eyes whip up from where they’d rested on his hands to find his face. The hunger in his expression steals your breath.

“You cant…you can’t really want this,” you mutter. You can’t want me, is what you mean. It makes a lump form in Steve’s throat. Makes him want to hold you even closer, so he does.

“I do,” he contradicts, rocking himself against you consistently now. He’s encouraged by the way you shiver and grip at his wrists. Not pulling him off you but anchoring him to you instead. Steve brings his face to the side of yours, staring till you turn your head to look at him. In real life this time and not through the mirror. He’s disconcertingly close and your breath stutters in your chest. His eyelids are half mast as he takes you in. “The question is…do you want this?”

You kiss him before you can think any deeper about what’s going on. You kiss him before you can convince yourself that this is a prank or a pity kiss or anything else other than an attractive man you care about lavishing you with physical affection. Steve’s eyes slam shut easily and he holds you close in this awkward position. Craning your neck around as his front is pressed still to your back. His lips are insistent and hot and wet and quickly he’s forcing yours open so his tongue can slip in.

You practically swoon over the combination of his hands and his lips and his tongue. His dick presses more insistently against you and you find yourself pressing back. Shimmying your was a bit to create more friction. Triumph shooting through you when Steve let’s out a quiet, low “Fuck” in response.

When you finally pull away for a oxygen, you straighten up and look at Steve and yourself in the mirror again. You look absolutely debauched out of no where. Eyes hazy, lids low, hair and dress askew, chest rising and falling in a restless pant. Steve ignores the opportunity to breathe, instead using the pause to start kissing your neck.

You watch him work at your skin. His jaw moving and throat tensing and releasing. His hair wild and disheveled in a way that makes him look even more sinfully delicious than normal. It really isn’t fair.

You’ve always been attracted to Steve Harrington. You have eyes and a healthy libido after all. But you’d never believed someone like him could want someone like you. You did believe, however, that you were a perfect match in every respect other than aesthetic. He needed someone to challenge him. Someone to keep him humble while also supporting him and building him up. You had plenty of confidence in your humor, intelligence, and overall personality, so him becoming your best friend made sense when you both fell into it.

But with his body against yours now, it’s the first time you’ve ever even considered the meaning behind his flirtatiousness. The intent behind the hands he places comfortingly on your shoulders or thighs. Hope bloomed hot and hesitant in your core as you watched his hands begin to roam and grope at parts he’d never dared touch before.

“This…this okay?” he asks into your skin as he tentatively cups one of your breasts. He cracks an eye open to look at you in the mirror and when you nod, he allows his hand to close tighter around you. You swallow another moan.

“Steve?”

“Yeah?” he whispers back, not looking up from your tits which he’s begun massaging through your dress. You grasp at his wrist and shake him to get his attention.

“Steve.”

The strain in your voice has his eyes snapping up to yours and his hands stopping immediately. He looks sheepish.

“Do you not like that? I can stop -,”

He goes to remove his hands from your chest but you slam your hands down over the backs of his to keep him fondling you.

“No!” you say hastily. Steve seems confused so you continue. “Remember what you said about there being ‘takers’ for me?”

Steve bites his lip, not enjoying the thought of how many other guys would find you thoroughly fuckable. But he nods.

“Yeah?”

“Well…” you say before you can overthink and ruin this. Your mind is reeling and your body is aching. The signs are too clear to question and even if this wasn’t what it seemed to be, you didn’t feel strong enough to look a gift horse in the mouth. You bite your own lip. “Would you…would you take me?”

Steve stops breathing. You can tell because his breaths were coming in heavy before and now suddenly his chest is still against your back. You don’t let yourself question it. Instead you widen your stance and lean over, flattening your palms against the wall on either side of the mirror. In the reflection of the glass Steve gets a good look down your dress into the cleavage below. Looking behind you he gets a good look up your dress where it’s ridden up, revealing a pair of dainty lace panties.

The groan that rips through him seems to restart his lungs because suddenly he’s practically hyperventilating behind you. His hands land heavy on your hips and he grinds against you with even more purpose. Steve’s instinct is to ask again if you’re sure, but you hum a low “yess” and drop your head to hand between your arched shoulders.

You’re into this. Maybe even as much as he is. It’s time to man the fuck up and take what he wants. What you want to give him.

So Steve places his hand on the dip of your lower back to encourage a deeper arch. You oblige him, sticking your ass out further in the process, and he groans.

“I’ll show you how you should be treated, babe, don’t you worry,” Steve says hoarsely. A thrill runs through you at his words but he continues. “But you have to do one thing for me.”

“Anything,” you answer breathlessly. You’re surprised by your own enthusiasm but you can’t help it, visions running through your mind of what he could ask of you. You mentally prepared yourself to drop to your knees, mouth already prematurely watering.

“Acknowledge how sexy you are,” he says, suddenly wrenching you upwards so you can see yourself more fully in the mirror again. Your back is once more flush with his chest and you moan at the sight of his hand wrapping lightly, delicately around the base of your throat.

“That....I’m...” you struggle with the words and then shake your head. Steve’s hand slides down and pulls at one strap and then the other, letting gravity do the work of exposing your breasts to the air and him. Steve’s eyes roll back and he bites his fist.

“I mean come on,” he moans. He gestures to your chest. “What the fuck is this? You’re the hottest girl I’ve ever seen.”

You can barely meet his intense gaze in the mirror but try your best.

“You...wouldn’t have dated me in high school.”

Steve blinks. Completely taken back by the juxtaposition of your sudden vulnerability and the absolute fantasy of having your body against him, tits out and ready to be fucked. It takes a second for his brain to work through it but then he’s laughing.

“We wouldn’t have even been friends in high school. I would have made fun you and Robin if we’d ever crossed paths. Probably would have beaten the shit out of Dustin if he’d been old enough. And you know why?” he asks. You’re confused by his laughter so you shake your head and he continues. “Because I was an absolute asshole. It’s a me problem. High school Steve was a dick and honestly you’re better off not even knowing him.”

His tone is flippant but you can see the strain in his features. He feels guilt about his past and you know that. You suddenly feel guilty for letting your insecurities drag up an ancient history that you know he’s more than happy to move past. Comforted, you squeeze one of his hands that now rests on your hip and smile.

“And these days you’re only sometimes a dick,” you tease. Steve’s smile becomes more genuine, but his features screw up when you catch him off guard and bend over again, grinding against his still present erection. His fingers dig into your hips harshly.

“I’ll show you a dick,” he hisses, pressing into you in a shallow thrust. It’s absurd and it makes you laugh, finally free of the tension that had coated everything up to this point.

“Please do, Harrington. You’ve kept me waiting,” you respond, impatiently wiggling your hips. Steve abruptly pushes the bottom of your dress up, exposing your ass and leaving all of the material bunched around your middle. He lands a slap against your right ass cheek that has you squealing, finding his eyes in the mirror. They glint with mischief.

“I know you liked that. You forget you’ve told me what gets you hot,” he says simply. You flashback to the weed fueled honesty session in the Family Video parking lot you both had had one night and tingles erupt at the thought of what else he might remember. But then you remember what he’d said.

“Yeah well you like it when a girl touches herself, right?” you say cockily, lifting one hand from the wall and brining it to slide from your jaw, down your neck, to cup your breast and play with your nipple. While doing so you accentuate the curve in your back. Steve watches, swallowing audibly, but then fast as lightning rips your hand away from yourself and presses it back to the wall. His full body doubles over yours. You gasp.

“Usually I do, yeah. But I’ve waited so long that right now only I get to touch this body, understand?” You’re nodding before you can even think about it. When he trusts that you’ll leave both your hands pressed to the wall, Steve let’s his hands return to you. He slides up from your knees to grip fully at your inner thighs. He manhandles your hips, moving them side to side in order to grind your ass against his tented jeans. He palms up your soft stomach beneath the bunched dress. And then he cups your breasts, rolling your nipples between his fingers, making you gasp again. His chuckle is low.

“See this is better. I’m the one who appreciates this body anyway. I should give her what she deserves.”

Your eyes are heavy lidded as they hold one another in the reflection. There’s hunger there that you’ve never known in your short lived sexual experience and suddenly you know for a goddamn fact that if this man is not inside you soon you will combust.

“Steve can you…can we just…?” You move against him impatiently and he leans in to kiss your neck with a chuckle.

“I’ve got you, babe. No need to beg.” The cockiness makes you roll your eyes but you hate that a fresh wave of wetness coats the tops of your inner thighs.

“I wasn’t gonna beg.”

“You weren’t gonna beg?” Steve asks, feigning shock. Your hands ball into fists against the wall.

“Pull your fucking pants down, Harrington.”

“Can do,” Steve says with a big grin. He unbuckles his belt and pulls down his jeans swiftly, in spit of how tight they are, leaving them and his underwear bunched at his thighs. He pushes you down farther and you have to strain to look up and watch him.

Over the curve of your ass you are treated to the sight of Steve Harrington stroking his massive cock. He hadn’t been called King Steve for nothing, that was for sure. His fist moves over it smoothly and with a familiarity that has you jealous of his fucking hand. Your eyes are wide and he seems pleased by your reaction.

“This work for you?” he teases. You bite your lip and consider your response.

“You’re sexy, Steve Harrington.”

A flush spreads across his face and down your neck and you’ve never been so smug in your entire life. But to his credit Steve clears his throat and grins.

“Thank you, babe,” he says before leaning over your body and rutting his cock against your core, leaving you gasping. He chuckles in your ear. “See, that’s how you take a compliment.”

“It’s not a compliment when it’s a fact, Steve,” you argue. But then he’s pulling down your panties and your legs begin to shake in anticipation.

“I don’t know because this is both a compliment and a fact - you’re fucking soaked!” he groans, running two fingers through your folds to collect the slick there. He flashes you a smile in the mirror that you can’t return because he suddenly sinks two fingers into you, causing your jaw to drop. “Which sexy thing in the mirror did this to you - you or me.”

“Shut - fuck. Shut up, Harrington,” you grit out.

He laughs and starts kissing your neck in tandem to his thrusting fingers. You bite back a moan, especially when his free hand lifts to play with your nipple. As someone who’d never been afforded much foreplay, you probably could have taken him two minutes into your argument, but Steve Harrington is warming you up. Getting you ready for him. And the realization makes you want to melt into a puddle at his feet.

When he adds a third finger and your hips work overtime, practically riding his hand, Steve finally pulls away, pressing a swirl into your clit that has you spasming as he takes his hand from between your legs.

“I think you’re good and ready,” he mutters, almost to himself. You nod feverishly up at him, swiveling your neck to try and see him directly. He shakes his head and nudges you back to the mirror. “No you’re gonna watch. You’re gonna watch me fuck you and see how well you take it.”

His words almost have your eyes rolling back in your head, but you hum an affirmative and go back to watching him in the mirror. Steve rubs the head of his cock through your folds and the way his face crumbles in pleasure has you absolutely preening. Then a sudden thought has your back rigid.

“Steve. Condom,” you say softly but urgent. His eyes snap open and he’s nodding immediately.

“Yeah sorry. Sorry!” He leans down and nips at the swell of your ass playfully and you yelp at the casual intimacy of it, heating up further as he reaches into the pocket of his bunched up jeans and pulls a foil packet from his wallet.

“How old is that?” you challenge with a cocked brow. He studies the packet for a second before looking up at you grinning.

“New enough that it’s not expired but old enough to have been collecting dust in there for a while,” he says, ripping it open and rolling the condom over his length. You bite your lip at the subtle confirmation that he hasn’t been with anyone else for a long time, trying to tamp down how good that makes you feel. Steve notices. “You like that? The fact that you’re the only one?”

You roll your eyes and repeat the refrain of the night.

“Shut up, Harrington.”

Steve pushes forward, one hand wrapped around the base of his dick, the other hand grounding on your hip. He spreads your folds with the head to cover himself in your slick. You sigh at the feeling.

“You’re not the only one whose been in a dry spell,” he says with a chuckle. You groan, letting your eyes slide closed while the hand that’s on your hip slips between your thighs to rub circles into your clit. He’s making you wetter. Prepping you further to accommodate his size. Again you feel overwhelmed by his attentiveness and how different this is from all your previous experiences. “You know the difference between us though, right?”

“Hm?” you ask, fully distracted by the pressure of his cock at your entrance and his finger on your bud.

“The difference is my dry spell is cuz I was waiting for you.” He says it simply. As if he’s not dropping a bomb on you in an incredibly intimate moment. Your eyes fly open and find his in the mirror and he’s grinning but this isn’t a joke. Your mouth opens to respond but the only thing that comes out is a moan when he chooses that exact moment to push all the way into you.

The feeling is otherworldly. It’s a stretch you’ve never felt and it’s got your legs turning to jelly and your face crumpling just on the line between pleasure and pain. You search for Steve’s face again in the mirror like a tether in a storm and he looks as overwhelmed as you feel. His eyes are screwed shut and he’s biting his lip so hard you’re worried because you sure as fuck want to kiss those plush lips again.

“St-Steve…” you all but whimper. He finds you in the mirror and looks almost distraught.

“Sorry yeah I’ll move it’s just…fuck.”

The desperation in his tone is such a boost to your ego that it’s got you rocking back into him.

“Feels good, Steve.” It comes out in practically a slur, but it seems music to his ears with the way he leans forward, gripping your waist and pulling out inch by inch.

“Feels incredible,” he contradicts before slamming back in. The suddenness of the movement has you clenching around him with surprise and he groans, fingers digging into your soft flesh. “Baby. Baby.”

Baby.

Not babe. Baby.

You hear the word ringing in your ears and your entire body reacts, letting him drive in even deeper somehow. It punches the air out of your lungs and you don’t let yourself think before responding.

“I like that.” It comes out in a rush. Steve huffs a laugh and starts finding a regular pace.

“You like that, huh? That the spot?”

“No,” you try responding but cut yourself off with a gasp. “I mean yeah, but no. I mean I…like you calling me baby.”

Steve’s eyes melt watching you. Saying sweet shit like that while taking his cock so well.

“Good. I wanna keep calling you baby,” he says quietly.

Your gazes connect and you could swear your hearing cuts out. Time stops and everything in your view fades into fuzzy blurriness, leaving only room for him. Steve had slowed his thrusts, but as you focus on one another he renews his efforts. Not going faster, per se, but harder. Deeper. Your hands do what they can to keep you propped up against the wall, but soon your cheek is mashed against the mirror. You’re completely unable to stop the momentum of his thrusts from driving you forward with each upswing.

“Defeats the purpose - fuck! Of the mirror if you’re not watching the show, baby,” Steve grunts out after a few minutes. Sweat has begun beading on his forehead and he’s losing patience with the distance between you. He’s enjoying fucking you from behind - it’s usually his favorite way of fucking - but there’s something missing. Before long he’s pulling out, much to your vocal protestation, and hauling you over to your long empty bed.

“Wanna do this now,” he says as explanation. You don’t care. All you care about is the relief you feel when he sinks back into you. He has you on your back now, knees pushed up to your ribs. But you do care when everything comes into focus and you realize his face is right there. And the weight of his body is on you and around you and suddenly you need nothing more on this earth than to kiss him.

So you do.

Steve hums into your mouth when you lurch up to press it to his. Your tongues fight for dominance and a line of saliva connects you when you finally part enough to pant for much needed air.

“Holy shit, Steve. Fuck!” You slam your head back down against the pillow, doing your best to lift your hips to meet each of his thrusts.

“I’m kinda mad we haven’t been doing this all along,” Steve admits with a grunting laugh.

“We were friends,” you reason, bucking against him when his fingers find your clit again. with the way he has you folded in half, the added stimulation has you rocketing towards orgasm at a breakneck pace.

“Aha, ‘were?’ So we’re not friends anymore?” Steve asks.

“How many friends have you been inside?” you ask, but then your eyes widen. “Never mind, I don’t want to know the answer to that.”

Steve barks out a laugh, shaking his head before pressing his forehead to yours.

“Only you, baby,” he says good-naturedly. “Don’t think I can settle for just friends now, though.”

“No?” you ask absently. You’re beginning to ascend and losing yourself in the feeling. He can tell by the way you’re beginning to spasm irregularly around him.

“No, I need the whole sexy package,” he teases. You hear even more than before at the implication. That he might want all of you, and for more than just this, in this moment. You bite your lip and don’t say anything but his lips find your throat and you whimper. Steve sounds impatient when he speaks again. “Tell me you want me, too.”

You blink up at the ceiling and sputter.

“Wh-what?”

Steve pulls back, his thrusts slowing to a roll. He looks a little more tense. A little more vulnerable.

“You’re not the only one who needs to hear it, you know.”

You almost laugh at that but swallow it when you see he’s serious.

“Of course I want you,” you respond firmly. “Obviously.”

“It’s not obvious to me…” he mutters, dropping eye contact. You crane your neck to follow him.

“Steve, you’re hot as fuck - ,”

“That’s not -,” he tries to cut you off dismissively but you continue over him.

“AND you’re my best friend. I love being with you. In any way.” You roll your pelvis and look shyly up at him when he meets your gaze again. “But I’ve been wanting this way the most.”

Steve perks up, his hand grabbing yours.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“You wanted this?”

“Since that first time we spoke at Scoops Ahoy,” you confess. Steve’s thrusts come in faster now so your breathing picks up again. He snorts indignantly.

“I asked you out that day! You turned me down!”

“Well yeah, cuz I thought you were still a dick back then, Steve,” you reply with a massive smile. “We’ve been over this. Oh god…”

“You like this dick now, though, don’t you baby,” he intones, nothing but smooth Harrington charm. You don’t have it in you anymore to laugh or disagree.

“Mmmmhm…”

“You know you’re beautiful, right?” You seem just fucked out enough at this point that you finally won’t protest and he’s right. Your head lolls around on the pillow and you blink up at him dumbly. Steve takes in the bouncing of your breasts and the way your curves jiggle with each impact and he swears under his breath. “Gonna remind you how beautiful you are till you believe me, baby.”

He drives himself in all the way to hilt, holding himself there deep inside you till you’re clawing at him and clinging to him, moaning around gasps. Steve’s huge, but even better than that is the fact that he knows what to do with it. You ache with the supreme stretch of him. Pulse around his throbbing length in a way that makes you dizzy while you look up at him with glassy eyes that show you’re at least kind of understanding the depth of what he’s saying to you.

Steve can’t even begin to comprehend how he was lucky enough to finally find himself in this position. With you beneath him, staring up at him as if he hung the moon and the stars rather than simply stating plain, painfully obvious facts. He sees the crease in your brow as you wrestle with all the emotion he’s making you feel, however, and he wants to ease it. There’s been enough agony tonight. Right now, all he wants you to feel is pleasure.

“Hey,” he whispers suddenly, leaning forward and nuzzling his nose against yours as his thrusts start up again. A hazy smile lights up your features.

“Hey,” you respond weakly.

“Still worried you’re not fuckable?” he teases. You huff a laugh that barely sounds like one because Steve chooses that moment to return his fingers to your clit, making you whimper.

“You seem to…mmm. You like…oh fuck…”

“Easy for you to say,” Steve chuckles, but the heat’s not lost on him either at this point. His face is screwed up in pleasure and the arm holding him up beside you is beginning to shake. He’s so fucking close, he just needs you to cum first because no matter the growth he’s gone through, he’s still King Steve and he’s gotta break you first for his ego, damn it.

Finally you whimper the magic words.

“Steve! Oh…’m so close…there…”

Steve knows what that means, so he changes nothing about what he’s doing, just focuses on doing it better. A deeper push against your sweet spot. A harder swirl against your clit.

“Come on, baby, c’mon,” he talks you through it and then you’re crashing over the edge. Seizing in his arms and clamping down on him in every way possible. Constricting your arms and legs around him. Pussy spasming and locking him in, making it hard to continue to steadily pull in and out.

The sudden onslaught of pressure has Steve toppling over soon after. He lets out a guttural grown and buries his face in your neck, his hips stuttering into yours as he spills into the condom. Though it accepts none of his cum, your pussy milks his pulsing cock for all its worth. His shuddering breath matches your own and you gasp and cling to one another as you slowly come back to earth.

It’s quiet for a few minutes in the aftermath. Aside from your combined slowing pants, of course. Steve’s face is still buried in your neck and it takes a while for you to regain feeling enough to recognize that he’s administering soft kisses to the skin there.

It all floods back into focus. The fact that you had been getting ready for a party (one that you were now astronomically late to). The insecurities you had exposed to your best friend. The insecurities your best friend had exposed to you.

You want to be worried about it. You want to feel stressed about what this will do to your friendship and about how he will look at you when he finally pulls back and sees you sweaty and disheveled and…and…and…

And Steve pulls back to give you the softest smile you’ve ever seen. And he’s sweaty. And disheveled. And luminous. Before you even realize it you’re stretching out your hand to touch his cheek. His eyes slide closed as he leans into your touch. Turns to press a kiss into your palm.

Your lip quivers and you do your best to swallow any of the negative self talk that had tried to bubble to the surface. When Steve’s eyelids float open again he sighs.

“I know you were thinking about it, but we’re not making it to that fucking party. I don’t care what you say.”

The laugh you let out is strangled. Rocketed right back to old times and the root of your teasing friendship. You go to swat at him and he grabs your wrist, nipping at the back of your hand.

“Hey, it’s your fault for being so sexy. Think I got my fill fucking you once? Not a chance, baby.”

His grin lights up the room. You manage to match it.

“Shut up, Harrington.”

~*~

#steve harrington smut #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things smut #best friend!steve harrington

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dvmbification · 8 days ago

Text

PLEASE, GIRL, YOU HOLD ME NOW ft. sunday

( synopsis ) you don’t love him anymore, and he knows that himself. but whatever he could do to make you stay, he’d do it, as he needs you so much–needs you like oxygen. he might just lock you up in a pretty cage, pretty enough to match your face, to keep you safe with him forever.you're his love belt, and you know that yourself.

( tags ) sunday x fem!reader, slight angst, mild ñšfw, böñdágé kîñk, vöÿéürîšm, he ćümš in his pants, fîñgérîñg, possessiveness, one sided love, sunday is a weirdo, lots of angsty pining, sad make out session

( wc ) 2.2k

( toni's note ) repost again again again!!! this work is one of my favs so far.. I edited and added a bit btw !! gift for @nvuy :3 LOVE YA LOTS, MISAAAA !!

with the tall, stained glass window left open, a calm breeze enters your room. the soft moonlight brightens the place, and bounces off of your skin. this is it, you’re staring at yourself in the mirror, in your white nightdress, unsure of what you’re even doing. it’s weird, isn’t it? you were so infatuated with sunday, harping on about him to everyone you came across, anyone who even mentioned his name. but now, here you are–preparing yourself and your belongings, to flee this mansion of his, and the grasp of someone who was once your lover–at heart, at least. you’re startled at the sudden but gentle knock at your door. the very door creaks open to reveal a groggy sunday peeping through the cracks. fuck, he shouldn’t even be awake right now. “my dove, where have your things gone?” he croaks, rubbing one of his eyes with the back of his palm.

“ah. i’m just.. rearranging my room.” it hurts, it’s your first time lying to him, ever. you hope he was tired enough to have whatever you said slip his mind, but he saw right through you and your words–and you’re pretty sure you know that yourself. he frowns. “then, may you explain to me why all of your things have disappeared, even outside of your room?” he crosses his arms, and that’s when you both knew that you fucked up. maybe, just maybe, you could save yourself right now. “about that,” you kick away the suitcase which laid beside your feet. “i’d just like everything that belongs to me, y’know, inside my room–” “don’t lie to me, love.” he looks away to focus on the unholy amount of luggages and cases behind you. welp. as he takes a few steps towards you, your legs start to quiver in fear. the silence that follows pierces your ears, leaving you practically deaf.

and before you know it, he’s inches away from your face. “you know what i can do, right?” you hesitatingly nod your head, knowing what he’s capable of, and knowing that he can get anything out of you. “then why should i have to get it out of you, before you tell me yourself?” there’s genuine hurt in his eyes, and it hurts you even more. “i—i don’t know.” you choke out a pathetic response, throat already closing up and eyes swelling with tears threatening to fall down. “please.” he’s about to fall on his knees. you've made up your mind, and with a heavy heart, it was all or nothing. “sunday,” your voice falters. he focuses entirely on you now, wiping the tears building up at the corners of your eyes. “i don’t love you anymore.” his stare widens. “say that again, dear?” he sounds distraught, unable to believe what you said just now. your lips purse, unable to let those five words slip out again. “i don’t love you anymore, sunday.” his own throat closes up, speechless. he felt as though the world was caving in on him, his life crumbling apart. he never thought he’d hear that from you, little ol’ you, who loved him so dearly, and promised to do so until death.

he chuckles a little, dryly, denying the bitter truth that just came out of your mouth. “you’re kidding. right?” his voice is cracking, the sorrow within him seeping out. his lips curl into a smile full of hope, hope in the fact that you’re lying to him again. but it pains him to know that you’re not lying, and it’s very much true, at the back of his mind, he could tell that you’ve fallen out of love lately. every romantic gesture or sign of affection he’d show every other while, would elicit nothing from you back. did he make you mad? or have you felt pity for his love for you this entire time? no, that couldn’t be. sunday can pull the truth out of anyone, but he’s never had to do it with you. you’re an honest, earnest person, and you both know that. it’s not like you to lie, so why would you? “right?” this time, his voice has a threatening tone to it, chilling you down to the bone. he cups your face to look you deep in the eye, looking for just one yes, somewhere inside there.

“i’m not kidding.” you gently push him away, telling him for the nth time, that you really don’t love him at all anymore. “then what’s next?” sunday reaches out to hold your hand, now caressing it with his thumb. “i’m leaving in the morning, with everything else.” your eyes avert his gaze, which you’re sure now hold a grudge on you. but he’s not like that–to hold a grudge on someone who once loved him, right? “no,” he smiles, a breathy chuckle leaving through his teeth. “no, no, no, no..” sunday brings his hands to his head. you feel a rush of fear down your spine. “you’re not going anywhere. you should know this.” at that moment, a sudden feeling of drowsiness hit you. feeling like collapsing, the world around you spins, and in a state of total relaxation, you fall to the ground–but before you reach the floor, sunday catches you as you faint.

—

after a while, you stir awake–and wake up to be inside a large, golden cage, adorned in jewels and gemstones. it’s magnificent–the moonlight shines on each singular gem, reflecting the colors onto your face. you try to feel your face, and around the cage–but your hands stay in place. you find yourself to be in a kneeling position and tightly tied up in rope–with your hands bonded together above your head–and ankles separated, tied to the bars of the cage you kneel in. it’s an uncomfortable feeling, even your waist is tied back to the cage. you struggle and panic in place, unable to slip the rope off. “it’s no use,” sunday mutters, walking towards your helpless figure. “even if you found a way to untie yourself, you wouldn’t budge an inch, anyway.” you grunt and whine, doing your best to even move a muscle, but to no avail.

“let me go.” you pleaded on your knees, quite literally. but he denied each and every one of your empty promises, promises to stay. “i know what you’re thinking–again, don’t lie to me.” “get out of my mind.” you hiss, tears threatening to break and fall down your face. he can’t promise that, as you can’t promise to stay no longer anyway. “please. stay here with me.” he sounds mad, furious, even–but he treats you so gently–each time he touches your face or hand, he does it with such care, like you’re glass. it pains your heart, knowing the anger and sorrow he holds deep inside him, but he still handles you so carefully like you’re the most delicate of porcelain dolls.

his eyes flicker at your neck, covered in marks he believes he’s never left. an empty feeling fills his gut, he feels sick to his stomach–knowing that someone else has touched you. practically crawling to you, he proceeds to leave trails of gentle kisses along the crook of your neck. you silently plead for him to go on by craning your head to the side, giving sunday more access. “why..” his voice rasps, shaking uncontrollably. you let it go, and start to sob out of sympathy for the man. “i’m sorry.” “no you’re not.” but you know that he knows, that you’re telling the truth. you truly feel sorry for him, and you show it through your heavy tears, rolling down your cheeks.

“don’t cry, my dove.” he says so softly, with no sign of anger this time. his thumb reaches up to wipe away the tears which stain your face, while he continues to leave small bruises and bites on your neck. “can you tell me why you don’t love me anymore?” “no.” even through knowing your mind and thoughts, he couldn’t find out why you would fall out of love, either. “do you even know?” his want to know about this was genuine. “..no.” you sniffle and hiccup.

“how do i make you love me again?”

“i don’t know.”

“can i..” his words trail off, but you know what he’s talking about. “please.” he unbuttons your nightdress, slipping it down to your hips. you can see it in his eyes that he’s disappointed. “how do you not love me,” your waist spasms as he traces circles right above your cunt. “when you’re this wet?” you couldn’t help but arch your back and whine as his other hand traced your spine, sending tingling sensations down it. he purposefully avoids your wet cunt, even your breasts, as he carefully feels around your body, barely brushing his fingers across your skin. it’s so sweet–it’s sweet how delicately he handles you, how he softly speaks to you, but it feels like torture–it felt torturous how forgiving his touch was, or how he was telling you your own thoughts, nitpicking at your own lies to him, to yourself. “can't..can’t help it..” your breath shakes and falters as you weakly smile.

sunday pulls away to take another look at you. it's perverted, degenerate, even—his thoughts bubble up like freshly popped soulglad, thoughts of how tempting you looked in the state you were, and thoughts of how badly he wanted to give in to those temptations. he's biting his lip, gritting his teeth, wiping away the sweat on his temple. how irresistible you were, always.

he unbuckles his pants to pull it down and push it aside, to reveal the very visible bulge in his underwear. “you wouldn’t mind?” he shifts his head to give you a pleading look. and as weird as it feels and looks, you let him. he groans, rubbing his palm against his clothed cock, circling his thumb at the tip. “i love you.” he repeats, on and on. you wish you could help him out, but all you could do was watch and grind your hips against the floor in desperation as he pleasures himself. this was also torturous. “c-close. i’m close.” in minutes, he finishes in his boxers, shooting his load inside not you, but nothing, this time. his dick twitches and quivers, softening up.

he moans. “you don’t know how much i love you,” bringing his hand to handle the bars of the cage behind you, he brings his mouth to your ear. “and how much this hurts me.” he lets go of you, and for the first time in a while, you see a few tears roll out of his eyes. the swelling of your heart worsens at seeing him cry, the pounding reaching your throat. “do you believe me?” “i always have.” you sniffle. you know that he believes you deserve a more harsh punishment, but he could never bring himself to it–just the thought of that makes you want to cry even more, because you know he loves you far more than you love him.

“you deserve worse."

“i know.” you weep.

with ease, sunday slips off his gloves in mere seconds, then lining his fingers up at your entrance, teasing your wet folds. your hips buck towards him, trying to get more friction in between your thighs–and he pushes them in. his fingers pump in and out, deep inside, buried inside your pussy. you moan and whine, still loving how good he makes you feel. “do you only love me for this?” “i.. i don’t love you at all.” you cry. well, now you’re just lying to yourself. sunday brings himself closer to your face as he continues to pleasure you, seeing every part of your face twitch in satisfaction.

his eyes flutter down to your lips, and lightly pecks them–those small pecks turning into long, passionate kisses. with a furrowed brow from all the pleasure, you give in and kiss him back. your tongues tie and twist around each other, eliciting moans from one another. tears continue to drip down your face like a continuous babbling creek, dribbling down your cheeks, all the way to drop from your chin. he kept on thrusting his fingers up your cunt, until you came all over them. waves and jolts crash and strike through you as you ride out your orgasm on his digits. he pulls away, both his fingers and lips, to see how pretty the view was—and how beautiful the moonlight looked on your face. “you’re beautiful.” you look down, averting his eyes full of sorrow. “stop.” you might as well close your eyes shut—as he could just make you look up. but he could also just make you open your eyes, there’s no winning here.

you’re forced to look back up at him, chin pinched between his index and thumb. the prolonged eye contact was nerve-wracking. “i’ll let you go.” “what? no—i’ll stay.” sunday rushes in to embrace you, it was uncalled for. even after what you just did together, it seemed weird to you to be this close after everything you had told him. “i don’t think you mean that.” he’s persistent on this, whether you’re telling the truth or not, he’d ignore it. “i really do.” your words seem truthful, laced with falseness. still caught in his embrace, you nudge him away the best you can—but he won’t let go, he needs you so badly, needs you wrapping him up from head to toe.

“oh god, i love you.” you blurt out randomly. it was then when he let go. he almost collapses after hearing what he was longing for from you, even if it were fake. you pant and sigh in between kisses, unable to catch your breath. “you mean it?” “..yeah.” maybe he could ignore the truth behind your lies for now, and bask in the bliss of your false affection, if it means you’ll stay with him forever.

@ dvmbification ( formerly dumbification ) . do not repost or recycle my work.

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jirsungs · 6 days ago

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NO IDEA | 14. meeting the ncu freaks?

word count: 1.3k words

You wish you had mentally prepared yourself for the chaos you were about to enter when Donghyuck jiggled his spare key into the keyhole of his shared apartment.

To surprise you both, the door immediately swung open with Jeno standing there. You're both caught in headlights at the taller male, and Donghyuck’s key is still snuggled into the keyhole.

His lips formed in a smirk, his eyebrow comedically raised, “Wow, Y/N. Fancy seeing you here.”

You laugh at the familiar face. “What's up, Lee?”

You glance at Donghyuck briefly, and when you do, he's rubbing his forehead in pure embarrassment. You found it… kind of endearing.

“Jeno, please.”

The said male drops the act at his friend's embarrassed remark and gestures to you both to come inside. Once you do, you're met with three other sets of eyes blinking at you.

Their physical appearances were familiar since they were recurring people seen in Donghyuck's social media posts. But seeing them in front of you felt different—in a good way, of course.

Speaking of Donghyuck, your awkward boyfriend stands beside you, his hands in his pockets as he discreetly rocks himself back and forth. “Guys, meet Y/N, my, uh—girlfriend.”

You wave politely at the three boys, fearing they've frozen before you.

“Um… Are they okay?” You whisper over to Donghyuck.

“Yeah, yeah.” Donghyuck glances at you quickly when you look over at him, but once you turn towards his friends, he shoots threatening daggers at the four guys, “They’re just in shock that you're actually here.”

Jeno luckily breaks the silence with a hit on Jisung's back; the ladder exaggerates his wince with a loud whine.

“Ow! What the fuck!”

Now that the silence has finally been broken, Jaemin takes the opportunity to get up from his place on the rug-covered floor and approach you. Your eyes follow him, and you're left in shock when he takes your hand and leaves a kiss on it.

“‘Ello, m'lady.”

Donghyuck quickly reacts, smacking his black-haired friend away from you. “Hands off my girlfriend, you fuckin’ weirdo.”

Jaemin pays no mind as he cackles. But you don’t spare Jaemin any attention for a split second because your brain mainly focuses on how easily the word girlfriend rolled off Donghyuck’s tongue like that. It sounded more confident than the first time he said it, and you couldn’t lie and say it didn’t spark something in your chest.

“So, are we playing this game or what?” Renjun blurts out, sadly breaking the moment.

It turns out that “The NCU Freaks” weren’t as bad as Yuqi suspected them to be because you were enjoying their presence and silly group antics by the end of the night. You could see Mark and Chenle becoming just as competitive as the guys were in their current third round of Halli Galli. This game was meant to end way quicker than they intended, but to the guys' dismay, Donghyuck was always competitive and did not back down until he was satisfied with the result.

A red flag of his, they call it.

You’re surprised you could remember what round they were in since you found yourself spacing out by the first one. All you remember is that they’re fighting over who has to clean up the ignored pizza boxes and scattered soda and beer cans left on the dining room table.

As Halli Galli grew more aggressive, the guys ended up forfeiting and choosing to end the endless discussion with rock-paper-scissors. You’re left confused about why they would use such a childlike game to settle their problem, but the sight of them shouting was too funny not to laugh at.

“Rock-paper-scissors shoot!” The five guys in front of you shout in unison.

By the third try, you began to zone out until—

“HAH! Jisung, you idiot! You lost!” The booming voice of your boyfriend shook you out of your trance.

The next thing you know, the younger male is found distraught as his older friends giggle and tease him about his loss.

And that's when you found yourself loving them more than you expected.

Maybe you could get used to this fake relationship after all.

Enjoying so much of their company, you found it hard ending the night as Donghyuck reminded his friends that he had to get you home soon. It tugged at your heart a bit seeing them be just as sad about it as you were.

“Y/N, what if you sleep here for the night? We could have a sleepover and everything—I mean, we've never actually had a girl over for that before, but it would still be cool.” Jaemin's ramble gets cut off when Donghyuck shoots Renjun a shut-him-up look, resulting in Renjun elbowing Jaemin.

It still flatters you and makes you giggle either way. “I would love that, but, uh,” you glance over to your anxious boyfriend beside you, “I think that'd be a little bit too fast. Me and Hyuck promised to take things slow.”

Hold on. Did he hear that right?

The four boys eye you two down, and having all the attention on you ironically makes you sweat. So, you turn to Donghyuck for help. “Right?”

He turns to you, his brain not forgetting that you just called him the nickname only his family and friends call him, but he puts on his game face anyway. “R-right. Yeah.”

Game face, my ass. He thinks.

“Well, goodnight, lovebirds! Get her home safe, man!”

Unfortunately, there's Jeno, who always knows when to make things so much more awkward as he rushes the two of you out the door.

“So… Hyuck, huh?”

Unfortunately for you again, your boyfriend's sudden switch in behavior once you're left alone catches you off guard, and God, was it attractive.

But of course, this was the first real show of your “relationship” and reminding yourself that this is all fake is more important than dwelling in feelings that 100% won't happen.

“Never speak of it.”

But once you saw the teasing glint in Donghyuck’s eyes, leading you to make a beeline to the elevator down the hall, you knew that this would be mentioned again and again. He's lucky you liked the taste of his nickname on your tongue.

It was nearing 10 pm when Donghyuck parked his car in front of your apartment complex, which led him to ask you the one-million-dollar question.

“Alright, lay it on me. Did we scare you? And trust me, you can be honest. I won't be offended. Or I'll try not to be, at least.”

“You want my honest opinion?”

His assured demeanor drops right in front of you by the look of his face, and you fight the urge to laugh.

“Oh my God, we did scare you, didn't we?! Fuck, I’m so sorry. Was it Jaemin? It’s always him, dude.”

“Donghyuck, no! It wasn't—”

“He gets nervous around girls, and he reads this dumbass book Jeno gave him ‘cause Jeno told him it works like a charm—”

“Donghyuck.”

“And apparently, it has a bunch of tips on how to make a girl feel comfortable, and I think that whole ‘kissing your hand' thing was because of the book, and I—”

“Hyuck!”

“And also, you with that goddamn nickname. Why did you pull that? We never agreed on that! Do you even realize what that does to a guy?”

He finally shuts up when he feels you shake his arm and hears your fit of giggles. “Calm down, you dummy. I was just messing with you.”

“Y/N. I crashed out in front of you, and you’re giggling.”

His reaction only makes you laugh even more. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You let yourself calm down before you continue, “I enjoyed tonight, really. I adore your friends. They made me feel welcomed, and if it makes you feel better, Jaemin pulling that stunt only made me laugh. I loved them, Hyuck. Thank you for introducing me.”

“You’re serious?”

“Very.”

“Like 100% positive?”

And with a nod, you say, “100% positive.”

If your words didn't assure him, your hand resting on his as an action of comfort definitely did.

Once Donghyuck escorted you to your door and you said goodnight, Seulgi and Yuqi bombarding you with questions wasn’t a surprise. The night ended with you telling them detail by detail, even acting it out at some parts, with their teasing reactions making everything seem more real.

You fell asleep with the biggest smile on your face. And little did you know, so did Donghyuck.

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note: it's my birthday, guys!!!! i'm officially 18!!!!! as for my birthday gift to yall, i have finally locked in on this chapter and gave yall what you deserved :3 BIGGG apologies for keeping this beloved story in the dark for two months 💔 i missed this couple and i missed yall! 2025 IS THEIRRR YEAR GUYS, TRUST!

🖇 (open!): @skeetyeetyote @junviadinho @n0hyuck @yewshi @marvelahsobx @hqech @sunflowerhae @loveholicness @sfswithfs @222brainrot @dudekiss3r @aek1ra @nosungluv @miyawwn @haechology @chenlesfavorite @alethea-moon @polarisjisung @lionzyon @mystverse @insaneanddrained @starfilledgaze @onlyhyunjin @swee7dream @haechsworld @markspossibilities @schatjze @minniesbae @multifandomania @neozon3nha @zzurao @hoshipills @nessaassen02 @lavender-roses-06 @ohwowzersthatscool @sunghoonsgfreal @https-lvesick @taeeflwrr @do-you-remember-summer-127 @hyuck-me @injunnie-lemon @txthyuck @jeongintwt @starwonb1n @413ktz @haechansbbg @galacticnct @keeryverse @kosmicbomb @thegracerammy

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moralesluvr · 25 days ago

Text

GANG BABY | b. eilish.

“she told you she celibate, but she told me i can nail her shit.” ft. subtop!billie (blake i love you!)

the bass of a rap song thrums through the club so loud that it rings in your chest, replacing your own heart beat as your eyes fixate on the neon lights that strobe each and every way, illuminating your face and bright silver jewelry as you strutted over to the bar by yourself. you broke off from one of your friends and told her where you were going before you perched over the counter.

“can i get a whiskey sour?”

the bartender adheres to your request with a nod, and you gladly take your drink and take a seat on one of the stools, indulging in some quiet people watching. sure, the club was fun— but all your friends were wasted and off with their significant others, and this was your chance to wind down a little bit and try to enjoy a few moments of peace.

well, emphasis on trying. you have your moment of peace for about five seconds before some guy comes up to your seat at the bar, tapping you on the shoulder lightly and peering down to where his face is next to yours. he’s obviously drunk— and smells of liquor mixed with his disgustingly strong cologne. his grin is sleazy as he wiggles his eyebrows at you, “can i buy you a drink, pretty lady?”

“no, sorry, i don’t drink.” you reply cockily, taking a sip from your whiskey just to prove a point that you want him to leave you alone.

he doesn’t back off, though. they never do.

he leans a little closer to you now, “oh, come on. just a drink is all— i promise i don’t bite, unless you’re into it.”

“i’m not.” you reply harshly, your former smile fading away. you were trying to be nice to him although he was making your skin crawl, but you could tell he wasn’t the type to back down at all.

“you don’t have to be shy.” he speaks, dropping his voice like he thinks it’s sexy. and it isn’t, and you can feel yourself literally gag as he keeps speaking, playing with the rim of his glass, “why are you being so difficult? just let me buy you a drink.”

you can’t really contain your anger much longer. you slam your cup onto the counter and give him fiery eyes, “i know you’re only wanting to buy me a drink so you can drug me or some shit, and get me to have sex with you. look, you’re cool or whatever— but i’m celibate anyways. so leave me the fuck alone.”

he’s seconds away from getting up to holler and scream at you as a rebuttal, before you hear a loud and clearly voice coming from close behind you,

“do you not have ears? get the fuck away from her.”

you turn your head to the side slowly to meet eyes with a pair of ocean blue ones, and your eyebrow raises slightly. it’s billie.

the only thing you knew about her was that she was pretty famous, and had been staring you down in the club ever since you and your girls walked in. you couldn’t say that you didn’t return her looks, though— she was beautiful, and her energy seemed so likable even though you had only shared smiles and quick glances.

she looks casual, resting her elbow on your shoulder as she broke eye contact to look at the weird guy, who now looked timid. she cocked her head to the side at him as a challenge, and his former ‘big and bad’ behavior seemed to subside as his eyes softened.

“who are you?” he asks timidly, and billie kissed her teeth as she gave him a disapproving glare.

“her girlfriend.”

the lie comes out so effortless, and billie’s voice is so even, like she believes what she just said. the guy’s whole face drops and you wished you could take out your phone and snap a picture, because it was priceless. he let out a soft gasp as you shrugged nonchalantly, adding to the lie, “yup. so fuck off, weirdo— i’m a lesbian.”

the guy doesn’t say anything, he just scoffs— looking between the two of you like he doesn’t believe what you just said. but then billie shifts closer to you, planting a soft kiss on your cheek, and that seems to make him uncomfortable— so he mutters something under his breath as he walks off, sinking back into the crowd.

you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, and billie lets go of your waist and backs up a bit.

“your girlfriend, huh?” you giggle, raising an eyebrow.

billie steps back, clearly a little shy as she shrugged, thought you could tell she was a little nervous by the way a pink hue dusted her cheeks, “i— well, just looked like you needed help.”

you chuckle, amused by her sudden shift from confident to awkward. she had seemed so bold the whole time you eyed her in the club, and her change in demeanor intrigued you. you flipped your hair to the side and smiled flirtatiously, “and what do you want in return?”

she hesitates, then grins, a flicker of her earlier cockiness returning, “maybe just a dance.”

“bold of you to ask,” you tease, but there’s no bite to your words. you wanna push her, figure her out, make her wonder what her next move is gonna be before she makes it. it’s clear that she’s never talked to someone that’s as bold as you are, because she seemed so much more ‘hard’ from across the club than she is right now.

“i can be bold,” billie murmurs, her voice quieter now, her eyes flickering to yours and then away, like she’s not sure how far she can push now. it’s confusing to you, but kind of entertaining, so you shrug and bite your lip,

“yeah? well prove it.”

her breath catches, but she doesn’t back down. instead, she holds out a hand, waiting for you to take it. and so you oblige.

you let her lead you to the dance floor, the crowd folding outwards around you as the music shifts to something slower, something heavier. the weeknd’s discography is on shuffle as billie’s hands find your waist again, pulling you closer, her touch firmer now but still cautious, her anxiety so very obvious.

“you’re nervous?” you say, but it comes out more like a statement than a question. you kiss your teeth in amusement, leaning in just enough for her to hear you over the music.

“oh, i’m not.” you think she’s lying at first until her ringed hands find the flesh of your ass, her fingers grazing over the exposed skin through your shorts, grasping at it lightly.

you let out a gasp that falls inaudible due to the loud music, but billie can see your jaw drop slightly as she gave you a smirk. her eyes were glossy and hungry for you as she tapped your waist, “something wrong?”

now you looked like a deer in headlights as you shook your head now, your skin hot with half surprise and half arousal as you smiled through your surprise. it was a contest now, almost— who could be more forward, who could push the other harder.

before you could second-guess yourself, you close the gap, your lips meeting hers in a kiss that’s soft but unrelenting. billie freezes for a split second before melting into it, her hands tightening on your waist as she kisses you back with more force than you expected.

her lips are warm, hesitant at first, out of respect. but then she deepens the kiss, a quiet, needy sound escaping her throat that sends a shiver coursing through your nerves, making your skin tingle.

the club's heat feels suffocating now, the bass of music pulsing through your chest as bodies hazily move around you in a blur, billie's hands still gripped onto your waist. she's what's grounding you as people move past left and right, mumbling drunken apologies and trying their best not to spill anything on you.

billie eyes that were once timid and sweet morph into something much sharper, her breaths coming in uneven little gasps, "come on, we're getting the fuck out of here. it's too crowded."

though her voice is airy and light per usual, her directions are commanding, not really leaving you room to disagree or offer a rebuttal.

before you can respond, her hand is sliding down to yours, her fingers intertwining with your own as she leads you through the crowd, and your heart is fucking racing. billie's usual easy confidence has flown out the window, replaced by something much more urgent and primal. it's like a flip switched, and fear laced with a little excitement tugged at your heart.

she looks back at you as the two of you throng through a sea of sweaty and dancing bodies, making sure that you're still following her. and of course you are— how could you not?

when you push the doors open to the club, the cool air outside hits your face quickly like a shock, but billie doesn't stop. her hand squeezes yours tightly as she leads you down the dimly lit street, her silence deafening to you as you follow her lead, almost skipping over your own heeled feet. the thrum of music that sounds from the club fades out slowly as she leads you to her car, opening your door.

she doesn't speak. she just grabs your jaw with a strong, ring-clad hand, giving you a sloppy kiss on your lips, smearing whatever was left of your lipstick before slamming the car door shut, opening her own.

billie cranks the engine and pulls out the parking lot, wheels screeching as she used the palm of her hand to reverse, and you swear that you really could've came right then and there.

she's leaned back a little bit, her loud music shaking the seat beneath you as she mouths some of the lyrics. you watch her movements deliberately— her free hand snapping to the beat, head bopping, lips in a pretty pout— you were practically losing your shit at how hot she was.

and this must've looked so bad on you. going home with some random popstar just because she saved you from some creep— but could anyone really blame you? she was beautiful.

billie almost looks like she could be mad at you from how tight her jaw is clenched, how her knuckles bleed white as the streetlights around you fleet out of your sight, pulling slowly into the driveway. you sneak a look at her and see that she's biting her lip, hard, and the way her jaw ticks and her chest heaves makes you nothing but more anxious.

"billie—" you start, but she cuts you off, her voice firm and strong.

"inside. now."

the command is simple, sending a jolt up and down your spine as you oblige, pushing open your door without a response, because your response was how pathetic your obedience was.

you're scared, if you're being honest. you're usually always in control, molding situations to fit to your liking— you never let anyone else just tell you what to do. but it seemed different now, like the situation was out of your hands. but you kind of liked it.

you waited patiently for billie to unlock the door, and when she does, she's immediately all over you. her hands find your waist, pulling your body against her own as her lips forcefully find yours. it's rough, almost desperate the way she kisses you, her teeth grazing your bottom lip seductively.

billie's hands roam to your sides as she pulls away from the kiss, her fiery eyes softening only a little, "you have...no idea what you do to me, and i don't even know your name."

she sounds almost frustrated by it. you whisper to her your name as graze your fingertips against her arms, "show me then, billie. show me what i do to you."

you expect her to say something cocky, but she just grabs a fistful of your shirt, pulling you closer to her as she forces your feet to walk a pattern that you don't know, all the way up the stairs and into her bedroom.

there's a shit ton of sound equipment scattered around, cool pictures and thrifted antiques decorating the walls and her dresser. she's got a long wall of vinyls hanging up in color order adjacent to the wall that holds some of her most cherished sneakers. you try to take it all in, but billie's a girl on a mission, scooping you up quickly as your legs wrap themselves around her waist.

when she sets you down on the edge of the bed, you start to open your mouth, but she's already a step ahead of you. billie kisses you like she's trying to make up for every millisecond she hasn't, soft lips molding onto yours as you find yourself underneath her, melting into her covers with her force that leaves you breathless.

"fuck, angel, you're so—“ she breaks off her sentence, her voice low and rough enough that you feel yourself grow wetter, billie's lips finding themselves on your jaw, nipping at the flesh sweetly, but enough to leave and mark. she makes a trail of hickeys from your jaw all the way to your neck, "— so perfect. i need you."

her words make your stomach flip, heat pooling in your pussy as billie's hands only start to further wander. they slide under your shirt easily, curiosity oozing out of the tips of her fingers as she plays with the lace of your bra.

"you've been driving me insane since i first fucking saw you." billie breathes out with honesty, her words disappearing into your neck as her teeth graze against a soft spot on your flesh, nibbling at it before soothing it with her tongue.

a soft gasp leaves you, your hands tangling underneath billie's shirt in a desperate attempt to keep her close. "yeah? well, what are you gonna do about it, hm?"

billie's head lifts, and her eyes lock into yours, dark and full of something unknown that makes your heart stop. all she needed was your bitchy little statement to get her worked up, her hands maneuvering skillfully against your body. she pills your shirt up in a swift motion, right over your head, her gaze dropping to take you in. her lips part, her breath hitching as her hands skim over your sides, her touch reverent now— like she's scared to touch you. to break you.

"you're so beautiful, such a pretty girl." she breathes, her voice so soft that it makes your chest ache.

her fingers find the clasp on your bra, her eyes flicking to yours for permission, which you give her with a nod. she unhooks it, catching the cups on her hands and tossing it to the side.

billie's slow with her actions, contrast from how hungrily she touched and kissed you earlier. her fingertips run across your thighs with passion, open mouth placing sloppy kisses on your abdomen like she's got all the time in the world. it's almost like a massage, the way she touches you— appreciating every single inch of your skin with tender love and care.

a kiss to your hip. "you're so pretty."

a kiss to your thigh. "just wanna make you feel good."

she yanks your skirt off. "need you so bad."

a kiss to your clothed clit is what makes billie stop talking. her fingers hook in the sides of your panties before pulling them down with a swift motion, making you gasp at the contact of cool air.

she can't stop herself. the way billie whimpers when her tongue slips into you, replaced by her wet fingers, it's all too much for her.

she rests her hand on your thigh as she squeezes it gently, "does this....feel good? am i doing a good job?"

you think it's cute the way she asks you, and you respond with a nod as her name breathily escapes your lips. her fingers are curling into you with a speed that seems inhumane, billie's thumb on your sensitive clit pushing your orgasm to be stronger and stronger. you can feel yourself unravel on her digits, a wave of pleasure so so close as your back arches off the covers, fingers digging into billie's soft comforter.

"bills— fuck!" you screech, and you can't even finish your sentence as you cum all over billie's fingers, coating them with your arousal as she kisses your clit, still fingering you slowly as you come down from your high.

you're still sensitive as ever when billie smiles against your sex, "was that good, love? you feel amazing, god— just squeezin' around me...so tight…”

you start to open your mouth and reply to billie's question, but you gasp as you feel her fingers brush harder and harder up against that sweet spot inside you, and you're seeing stars as you try to relax, but it's just too much.

"billie...n-no more..." you whine, your whole body tingling due to the sensitivity. but you watch as the dark-haired girl pouts,

"please...i just wanna make you feel good, i’m sorry— is that okay? can i?” billie almost pouts at you, and you can’t say no, especially because she’s looking up at you with such sweet and gentle eyes that are just hungry for you, wanting nothing but to pleasure you. so you oblige, letting her finger-fuck you gently yet powerfully enough to bring on your second orgasm.

billie feels you tighten up around her fingers, thrusting a little deeper into you as she coaxes that last drop of pleasure out of you, “cum for me baby, it’s okay…”

you feel your orgasm wash over you, making your skin hot as little moans and whines escape your lips. your eyes shut for a moment, eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks as you sigh. you hear billie shift next to you, planting a kiss on your forehead as you heave, looking over at her. “again in a little?”

billie giggles, stroking your cheek with a free hand as she backs up, making a jokingly confused face,

“i thought you were celibate, huh?”

“nah,” you giggle, “you can always nail my shit.”

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