#wrapped up in her sweater and curled up with her on the sofa

[smileysuh]

crossroads

🌙 starring. Kim Mingyu & Jeon Wonwoo x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. If one neighbour is a Doberman, then the other is a Golden Retriever. They’re like night and day, and yet, you’re drawn to both, as if some gravitational or celestial power is pulling you to them… it also helps that they both have motorcycles. How had it been so easy to ghost Wonwoo in the past, only to find yourself at a crossroads with his roommate seven months later?

tw/cw. Threesome, unprotected sex, multiple sex scenes, big dick Mingyu, creampie, oral (f/m receiving), blow job, deep throating, hand job, Eiffel tower/spit roasting, breast worship, nipple pinching, nipple licking, panty kink, eating pussy through panties, fingering, squirting, pussy stretching, praise, dirty talk, ‘sir’, dom!Wonwoo, switch!mingyu, blindfold/sensory deprivation, voyeurism, listening to your neighbour have sex, masturbation, reader reads erotica, mutual masturbation, slight dacryphilia, blindfold/sensory deprivation, inklings of humiliation, etc… I pet names: (hers) angel, baby. (Mingyu’s) gyu. (Wonwoo’s) sir. 

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 19.8k

🍭 aus. Biker!meanie, booktok!reader, neighbours!au, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. This was not supposed to be this long. I don’t know how this happened. 

Prologue 

“Who keeps messaging you?” your cousin asks, trying to act nonchalant as he sips his margarita, but you can feel his eyes on you as you stare at your phone.

“The Harley dude,” you sigh, quickly reading the text message.

“The guy who missed your first date because he was napping?” Jeonghan nearly chokes on his drink, setting it down in favor of flashing you a judgemental look.

“Yeah, the same guy who also tried to rebook our first date as a group ride night with all his friends,” you roll your own eyes at the stupidity of men. While the idea is fun, it’s not the way to get to know someone new. 

Jeonghan lets out a low whistle. “Sheesh.”

“You can say that again.” You set your phone down, grabbing at your bellini, and relaxing against the patio chair, trying to soak up the sunshine in an effort to calm yourself.

“Well? What did he say?” your cousin presses.

“He said his entire week is free if I want to meet up.”

“And what did you say?” 

“Nothing.” You tip your head back, letting out a contented breath. “He had two chances, I’m not about to give him a third.”

“Summer is almost over,” Jeonghan points out. “I know you wanted to find some hot dude with a motorcycle and ride off into the sunset. You’re getting low on time.”

“Honestly, Hannie? This Jeon guy is not worth it.”

One

After a long winter, it’s finally getting warm enough that you can open your apartment windows and enjoy the fresh air. Trees are beginning to blossom, birds are singing songs that act as white noise while you sit at your dining table completing the last few emails for your remote job.

As you’re finishing up your very last correspondence of the day, new noises join in with the robbins and wrens. These noises, however, are nowhere near as pleasant.

There’s a banging outside your door, a few thumps, and a distinctly male voice cursing. 

Living in a fairly quiet apartment complex, these sorts of sounds aren’t something you’re used to, and they can only mean one thing; your landlord finally found new tenants for the two-bedroom next door that’s been vacant for over a month. 

With a sigh, you close your laptop, wrapping your sweater tightly around your body as you venture toward your door. You can’t help the curiosity bubbling inside of you, and after another deep breath, you decide to take a peak into the hallway beyond.

Two men are struggling to get a couch through the doorway into unit 317. You stay silent, watching the way one man’s biceps bulge with each maneuver. His hair is on the longer side, dark strands licking and curling at his throat, which is covered in a light sheen of sweat from the effort of moving. 

“Come on Cheol, we’re almost there,” he encourages the man holding up the other end of the sofa. 

“Fuck you, Mingyu,” the other says, stepping back into the apartment and out of your view.

You wait patiently, and after a minute or so, the pretty man moves into the hallway again, giving you a full view of his face. He lets out a deep breath, shaking out his muscular arms- that’s when his eyes meet yours, and you swear your heart skips a beat in your chest.

His mouth curves into a wide grin. “Hi! Sorry if we bugged you with the noise- that couch was not making moving easy.”

“It’s okay,” you assure him quickly. “You must be my new neighbours.” Your gaze shifts past him to the second man, who has appeared in the hallway too.

“Nah- I mean, I am, but this is Cheol, he’s just a friend,” the pretty man tries to explain, stopping in front of you. He wipes his hand along his jean leg, then holds it out to you, “I’m Mingyu.”

You allow him to shake your hand. Despite his attempt to wipe some of the sweat away, his palm is still a little clammy, although, you’re shocked to find that the physical contact isn’t unpleasant. 

You tell him your name, watching Cheol trudge past you to the elevator. “So if that guy isn’t your roommate, who is?”

“My buddy Wonwoo. He’s actually visiting family in Korea right now, won’t be moving in till the end of the month.”

“I see,” you nod. “Well, welcome to the building.” 

“Thanks,” Mingyu beams again. “If all our neighbours are as friendly as you, I think we’ll like it here.”

“If I’m being honest, we’re a quiet building, lots of us are kind of reclusive,” you try to explain, choosing your words carefully. 

You hear Cheol let out a chuckle as he waits for the elevator, and you wonder what he’s found so funny.

“Quiet,” Mingyu repeats, letting out a breath. “Noted. We’ll do our best not to be a disruption.”

You want to believe him, but something in his grin tells you not to. 

Two 

It’s been about a month and a half since Mingyu moved in. You’ve not seen him, or his roommate, although, you have heard them through your shared wall a few times. One of them - Wonwoo you’re guessing- is pretty into video games, because yelled lines like ‘I’m trying to revive you, dipshit!’ and ‘stop fucking dying so much then!’ have irritated you and interrupted your soft girl movie nights. 

From what you can tell, Mingyu’s elusive friend who was visiting Korea is now sharing his bedroom wall with you, and at two AM on a Tuesday night, your suspicion is confirmed. You wake to noises that aren’t gamer screams, they’re screams of pleasure. 

Muffled cries of “harder, daddy!” and “please!” have your skin tingling as you shift under your duvet, feeling suddenly very hot. 

As you lay there and listen to the sound of a headboard beginning to hit the wall, you try to decide if you’re annoyed, or horny. The tingling between your thighs, and the heat along your neck makes you think it might be a combination of both.

Part of you wants to bang your fist against the wall, but you’re much too shy to risk any sort of confrontation. Instead, you simply lay there, fighting the need to slip your hand down your sleeping shorts.

You figure the sex will be over soon, but five minutes stretches into fifteen. The woman’s cries have stopped, but the low thumping of a bedframe against the wall has only gotten more intense. 

You’re no stranger to kinky shit- you’re an avid reader of smut afterall, and being a voracious reader, your mind comes up with reasons why the girl may have stopped begging. Had Wonwoo put something in her mouth to shut her up? Panties perhapse? Or had he flipped her into doggy position, pressing a hand to the back of her head to force her face against the pillows?

If Mingyu had been hot, his best friend must be sexy too- guys like that travel in packs, and Cheol hadn’t been bad on the eyes either. You imagine a faceless man, muscled and gorgeous, railing some girl not four feet away from you, with only a wall keeping you from seeing the perverse act. You feel dirty, like a voyeur, and you’re equal parts relieved and saddened when the noise finally stops. 

You sit in silence, listening to your own heavy breaths for a few minutes, wondering if the sounds will pick up again.

They don’t, and soon, you’re drifting off into a lusty sleep.

Three 

You’ve been awoken to the sounds of sex three times now. The idea of approaching the property manager to file a noise complaint has been on your mind, but you can’t find it within yourself to make waves.

Due to all of this, when you finally bump into Mingyu in the building’s shared laundry room, you see it as the perfect chance to quietly resolve the issue without causing trouble. 

He’s dressed in gym shorts and a black muscle shirt that shows off his expansive shoulders as he moves wet clothes into the dryer. Standing in the doorway of the laundry room, you’re once again struck by how beautiful your new neighbour is.

With a deep breath to find courage, you appraoch him, going for the washing machine next to his. “Hi,” you greet him.

“Oh, hey neighbour,” Mingyu grins, pausing what he’s doing to look you up and down.

You’re hyper aware of the sleeping shorts that hardly cover your legs, and the sweater you’d tossed on does little to hide the fact that you’re currently braless. Even so, if you don’t bring up the noises now, you’re not sure when you’ll get another chance.

“Hey, do you uh…” your words come out quiet, and you try to raise your voice a little, wanting to sound confident, “do you think you could ask your roommate and his girlfriend to keep it down?” 

“Huh?” Mingyu’s brows furrow in confusion.

“The person whose room is next to mine,” you try to explain. “They’ve been kind of loud with uh… a girl, recently.”

“Oh!” You can practically see the lighbulb go off in Mingyu’s eyes. “Sorry, you said girlfriend, and that part stumped me. The last time was about a week ago, yeah?”

“Something like that.”

“Don’t worry, I already talked to him a few days ago. Told him to get his fuck buddies to keep it down- they’re annoying, huh? I thought I was the only one losing sleep over it.”

“Definitely not the only one,” you let out a small laugh. “If I’m being honest, I was considering talking to the property manager about it, but I don’t like to cause issues, so I’m glad we’re on the same page about this.”

“We’re for sure on the same page,” Mingyu assures you. “Thanks for not talking to the manager about this- hey, listen, what if I give you my number, and if it happens again, you just have to text me and I’ll go bang on his door or something?”

“I’d appreciate that,” you grin, watching him pull out his phone so he can grab your digits. “Honestly, I work from home, and for the most part, you guys have been pretty great neighbours.”

“Ooh, one of those post covid remote jobs,” Mingyu nods in understanding. “I mean, I’m out during the days usually, I work at a tattoo shop across town, and Wonwoo sleeps most of the time so he can be awake for his evening bar job.”

“That actually kind of makes sense,” you admit. “I never see you guys around.” 

“Well…” Mingyu leans against the dryer, flashing you a boyish grin. “We could change that. You could come over sometime.”

Your heart leaps into your throat. From his body language, and the suggestion, you’re pretty sure this gorgeous man is flirting with you. “I, uh…” you swallow thickly, “maybe.” 

“Well, I have your number, and now…” Mingyu types something into his phone and a moment later yours dings, “you have mine. So if you want to take me up on that offer, just shoot me a text.” 

“Okay.” The words comes out kind of shaky, and you internally smack yourself for becoming so shy from this pretty man hitting on you.

With a wink, Mingyu leaves the laundry room, and your thoughts are scattered for the rest of the day.

Four 

It’s been too long since you’ve seen all your friends from highschool. Soonyoung, Seokmin and Seungkwan are three of the rowdiest guys you know. They love doing bar crawls with you whenever they’re all in town and can find the time. 

Seungkwan lives in another city these days, studying law at a prestigious university. Soonyoung travels the country with dance troup. And Seokmin spends hours every day at the theater practicing for new performances and productions.

They’ve taken you to a bar you’ve never been to, and you’re enjoying the booth style seating. Millennial and old classics are playing through the speakers, and every time a good song comes on, the three men start singing, whether it be Cher, or Britney, or even Kesha. 

You’re a few drinks deep, but they’re even deeper, and it’s gotten to the part of the evening where they want to hear everything about your love life. 

“Okay, book girlie,” Soonyoung slurs, throwing his arm around your shoulders, “spill the beans. Who you fucking?”

You laugh, pushing at his cheek to get his face away from yours. He wreaks of tequila and the Gucci cologne he practically drowns himself in every night before going out. It’s not the most pleasant combination.

“I’m single,” you insist.

“We all know you always have your eye on someone,” Seungkwan insists, leaning over the table to point his finger at you. “Tell us.”

“Okay, maybe there is someone I’m interested in,” you admit.

All three men let out delighted squeals and laughs. “We knew it!” Seokmin exclaims.

“The issue is, he’s my neighbour, and dating in your apartment building can get messy,” you explain. 

“We love messy,” Soonyoung insists. 

“You love messy,” you correct.

“So who’s this hot neighbour?” Seungkwan asks, wanting to dive into the gossip.

“His name is Mingyu.” You let out a sigh. “He’s tall, and handsome, and his arms-”

“Does he have a motorcycle?” Soonyoung interrupts you. “We know you love men with bikes.”

“I don’t think so,” you shake your head. “But it doesn’t matter. My motorcycle phase was last summer.”

“Baby,” Seungwan frowns dramatically, “Honey, sweetheart- You’re a booktok girl. We all know kinky little sluts like you need their bikertok boy to make their fantasies come true.”

You hate it when Seungkwan reads you to filth like this, and you hate it even more that he’s so right. You’ll always have a soft spot for men on motorcycles- or is it a wet spot?

“Anyways, Mingyu is cute, he gave me his number and invited me over-”

“Bitch, go fuck him!” Soonyoung bellows a little too loudly, and you immediately slap a hand over his mouth, looking around to see if anyone heard him.

That’s when your eyes land on a man behind the bar. His curly dark hair is cute, but when you study his regally handsome face, you realize you recougnize him.

“Fuck,” you whisper, immediately lifting your drink to hide behind it.

“What?” Seungkwan turns in his seat. “The bartender?”

“Babes, he’s been checking you out all night,” Soonyoung grins, cuddling closer to you.

It’s only Seokmin who studies you and asks, “Do you know him?”

“The bartender?” Seungkwan scoffs, as if it’s a stupid idea, although, when he turns to look at you again, his jaw drops. “Fuck, you do know him! Girl, spill!” 

“Do you guys remember that Harley dude from the summer? Jeon? The one I ghosted after he missed our first date then suggested a ride night with all his friends to make up for it?” you ask, lowering your voice and continuing to hide behind the glass in your hand.

“Shit, that’s the Harley dude?” Seokmin’s eyes widen in realization. 

“Fuck me, this is awkward,” you groan, taking a large sip from your drink. “Can we get out of here?”

“Babes, we just ordered another round,” Seungkwan points out, lifting his full Gin and Tonic to show you. 

“Don’t be like this,” Soonyoung pouts. “Harley man is a bartender, so what? He can’t ruin our night. Maybe he doesn’t even recougnize you!”

“If he’s been staring, I bet you he does,” Seungkwan points out, taking a swig of his drink.

“Thanks, Seungkwan,” you say sarcastically, “that really makes me feel so much better.”

Your friend only grins, raising his glass. 

You do your best to be calm, but you can’t control the racing of your heart. Your gaze keeps shifting to Jeon, and then, the night takes a turn for the worse: Mingyu walks in, followed closely by Cheol, and some other guy you haven’t met.

The group walks right up to the bartop, and you note the way Mingyu grins at Jeon, holding out a hand so the two can do a slight hug over the counter before the three men take their seats. 

“Shit,” you whisper, downing your drink. 

“What?” Soonyoung also whispers, following your gaze.

“That’s my neighbour,” you explain. “This is not good.”

“Looks like they know each other,” Seungkwan points out.

“Again,” you sigh, “not helping. Fuck me, I need to go to the bathroom.”

You stand abruptly from the table, darting off to the space at the back of the bar. In the ladies room, you splash your hands with cold water, trying to chase away the fire that licks across your skin. Your heart is still thundering in your chest, and deep breaths don’t do anything to help. 

You feel like you’re caged in- like there’s no way out of this bar without running into Jeon and Mingyu. 

You’re not sure how long you stay in the washroom, trying to relax- you give your friends time to finish their drinks, and you’re hoping that when you exit, you can simply escape with them, using the three men as a human shield.

When you exit the bathroom, however, you run directly into Mingyu, who’s just coming out of the men’s room.

“Sorry-” he apologizes, only to look you up and down. “No way! Neighbour? Damn, I didn’t expect to see you here!”

“Oh, hi,” you say awkwardly, forcing a smile.

“How’s your night going?” You usually like Mingyu’s happy energy, but right now, it feels nearly overwhelming.

“Good, you?”

“My night’s going great- hey, listen, I want you to meet someone!” Mingyu grabs your hand, and before you can stop him, your large neighbour is dragging you back out into the bar. 

As he tugs you closer and closer to Jeon, pieces begin to click in your head, and when you reach the bartop, you’re not even surprised when Mingyu says, “This is Wonwoo, my roommate!” He had mentioned Wonwoo worked at a bar, after all. 

“Hi,” you say awkwardly, forcing get another smile.

Jeon - or Wonwoo - looks you up and down. God, he’s even more handsome than his Tinder pictures had made him out to be. But fuck, you’ve heard him fucking other girls through your bedroom wall over three times- and you’d ghosted him-

“Hi,” Wonwoo echoes, his voice all deep and sexy in the loud noise of the bar.

You feel like the wind has been knocked out of you. 

“Wonwoo, this is our neighbour, you know, the one I mentioned.” There’s an insinuation in Mingyu’s tone, and the fact that he’d talked about you to Wonwoo has your stomach erupting into erratic butterflies that threaten to catch in your throat.

“Right.” Wonwoo’s tone is so unimpressed, and you’d bet your life the man is holding a grudge over the whole ghosting thing.

“Wait, Y/N, you should join us for a drink!” Mingyu suggests.

“Actually, I’m here with friends, I should really get back to them,” you say awkwardly, tugging your hand away from Mingyu’s grip. “Thanks for the offer though.”

“Right, yeah, okay.” God, Mingyu looks like a kicked puppy, but then he flashes you a smile and your heart melts. “Listen, text me, just to let me know when you get home safe.”

“You got it,” you agree quickly, giving him a tight lipped grin before you nearly stumble over yourself to get back to your table. “Guys, we have to leave, now.” 

“What happened?” Seokmin asks, clearly concerned while Seungkwan sighs and pulls out a wad of cash.

“They do know each other,” Soonyoung blurts out.

“Turns out Harley Jeon isn’t just Harley Jeon, he’s also Wonwoo, Mingyu’s roommate,” you quickly explain, grabbing your jacket to wrap around your body.

Soonyoung’s eyes light up in realization. “And they were roommates,” he whispers.

“And I ghosted one of them!” you whisper yell back. “The same one who I’ve heard fucking multiple girls through my wall over three times!”

Seungkwan lets out a chuckle. “Girl. You’re fucked.” 

Five 

Jeonghan lets out a deep sigh. “You know, when Seokmin texted me to come check on you for some Grade-A Tea, I never expected any of this.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” you roll your eyes. “I know I’m in deep shit.”

“Nah, you’re good,” your cousin assures you, standing and stretching. “You’ll figure it out.”

“I wish I had the confidence in myself that you have in me,” you breathe, also rising to your feet. Jeonghan’s been over for a while now, and after giving him all the gossip, you feel like you could use some time to yourself. 

“You’ll get there,” your cousin assures you, heading toward your front door so he can slip into his shoes. “Keep me updated.”

“I will. Thanks for coming to see me.”

“Of course,” Jeonghan opens your front door, stepping into the hallway before pulling you into a hug. “If I didn’t have a board meeting tomorrow, you know I’d stay longer.”

“I know. But I’m good,” you assure him. “I think I’ll sleep early tonight. This week has been a lot.”

“Sounds like it,” he nods, releasing you in favor of heading over to the elevator. Before he can press the button, however, the elevator dings, the doors opening. Wonwoo steps out. He stops infront of Jeonghan, giving him a once over before his eyes shift to you, still standing by the doorway to your unit.

Then, to your annoyance, Wonwoo grins, shaking his head and brushing past your cousin.

Jeonghan gets into the elevator, the doors closing, and as Wonwoo walks past you, you can’t help but make waves. “What?”

“I never said anything.” Wonwoo stops in front of you, hands nonchalantly tucked in the leather pockets of his jacket.

“You gave me a look,” you insist. 

He shrugs. “It’s just gonna break Gyu’s heart to know you already have a man in your life, that’s all.”

You roll your eyes. “That was my cousin.”

“Sure it was.”

“It was!” You can’t help the way your voice is raising.

“And the guys at the bar?”

“Friends!” 

“Right.” 

He turns to leave, and you swallow thickly, mind reeling for a comeback.

“I just don’t see how you can be making assumptions about me,” you state.

Wonwoo stops, gaze finding you again. “What do you mean?”

“Just that.. I mean… I’ve heard you fucking girls, mister Jeon, if that’s even your real name!” 

He actually grins at your words, eye brows raising in surprise. “Girl, actually, singular. It was one girl. A recent hookup. She’s not into gags like the others, they’re generally pretty quiet for you, aren’t they?” 

You’re so shocked by what he’s just said that you physically take a step back, jaw dropping.

“Oh, and by the way,” Wonwoo heads to his door, reaching into his jacket for his keys. “Mister Jeon is what people call my father, I’m sure you know that I prefer to be called Daddy.” 

He unlocks his apartment, flashing you a wink before he heads inside. You stand in your doorway for a solid ten seconds, processing his words before you go back to your room to scream into a pillow.

Six

After the events of the week, and work on top of that, a nap the moment you're done sending the last emails of the day is exactly what you need.

Birds are singing outside, your window ajar. The warming air carries the scent of blossoming buds, and you relax against your pillow, enjoying the feeling of your duvet against your skin.

You’re just drifting off when a loud engine jolts you back into consciousness. You flop onto your back, staring at the ceiling. 

You’ve been a motorcycle fan for long enough to know the sound of one when you hear it, and as the revving continues, you’d bet your right hand that some jackass is doing burnouts in the alley outside.

It’s probably some enthusiastic douchebag who has finally brought their motorcycle out of the garage after a long winter-

Actually, wait. You know an asshole with a motorcycle. An asshole with a Harley to be exact. 

Fucking Jeon Wonwoo. 

God, you hate that man.

Grabbing your pillow, you burry your head under it, wishing for the sounds to stop. 

Surprisingly, soon enough, you hear the motorcycle take off, with two more engines revving up to follow. 

Your apartment complex used to be so nice and peaceful.

It used to be.

Seven

After your nap had been interrupted, you’d trudged around for a while. It’s the evening now, and you have no energy to cook, so you’ve ordered takeout. When you head down to the lobby to  grab your food, you bump into Mingyu.

“Look at us, always running into each other,” he grins, watching you step by him to bend down and pick up your takeout.

“Seems like a common theme,” you agree, letting out a sigh.

“You good, neighbour? You look tired.”

“You want the truth?” you ask, straightening to look at him.

“Always.” He holds the door open for you to come back into the apartment complex. 

As you head to the elevator, you choose your words carefully, after all, you’re pretty sure Wonwoo was culprit behind the motorcycle incident two hours ago. “I just… I was trying to have a nap after work, been tired lately, and some guy was revving his motorcycle outside my window. He woke me up and I was too irritated to go back to sleep.”

As you enter the elevator, you notice Mingyu’s skin turning pink, and his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows thickly. “Actually… uh… I, uh…” He rubs the back of his neck. “I have a Harley, but uh, I got a new sportsbike, and that was me doing burnouts to test it out a little.”

Your heart lurches into your throat, your jaw dropping. When it comes to your neighbours in 317, you always find yourself conflicted. You’re annoyed at him, but at the same time, the fact that he also has a motorcycle makes this ten out of ten man even ten times hotter-

“Oh,” you look down at your takeout. 

“I’m really sorry,” he apologizes quickly. “It won’t happen again- you won’t tell our building manager it was me right? Like, we’re good?”

“Yeah, we’re good,” you let out a breath. “I mean, technically quiet hours don’t start till ten pm, and this was like, five, so I guess it’s my own fault for trying to nap so early.”

“Not your fault,” he assures you. “You definitely look like you need some rest- if it helps, I promise no burnouts near the apartment.” Mingyu even crosses his heart, and your body relaxes, shoulders slumping as you crack a smile.

“Okay, that would be nice.”

The elevator dings as it reaches your floor, and the two of you exit together, closing the short distance to your door. 

“Your takeout smells good,” Mingyu notes. “Maybe you could put yourself in a food coma and pass out for a bit, I promise there will be no noise issues tonight.”

“That sounds nice, actually,” you admit.

“Also uh… you know, you still haven’t taken me up on that offer about coming over sometime.”

When you look over at Mingyu, you find him leaning against the hallway wall, staring down at you with soft puppy dog eyes.

“Yeah, I’ve been busy-” you search for an excuse. “Also, I mean, I don’t know if Wonwoo would be good with me coming over.”

“Why wouldn’t he be?” Mingyu shrugs, which is when you realize that Wonwoo must not have told Mingyu anything about your failed dates or the ghosting. 

“He just didn’t seem to like me very much when you introduced us,” you blurt out, grasping for straws.

“He always has a resting bitch face, don’t take it personally,” Mingyu assures you. “Seriously, come over sometime, we don’t bite.”

Mingyu might not, but you get the sneaking suspicion that Wonwoo does.

Eight

The reverse harem adult romance your reading had drawn you in when you’d first opened it, but as time goes by, your mind keeps wandering when you reach the sex scenes. 

Threesomes have you imagining Wonwoo and Mingyu, and try as you might, you can’t shake the image from your head.

It doesn’t help that they fit the character personalities, one puppylike lover, and one more stoic and dominant. You can’t help but wonder what the two would be like in bed, and with a groan of frustration, you slot your bookmark between the pages and set the novel down on the bed next to you.

As you sit there, deep in thought, you think about what Mingyu had said about owning a Harley. 

That’s when you realize, last summer, when Wonwoo had suggested a Harley ride night as a date- if you had gone with him, would you have met Mingyu?

You decide that Mingyu definitely would have been there.

It’s interesting how the domino effect works- or maybe this is invisible string theory; the idea that, you can pass someone, or have missed chances, but one way or another, that person will always end up in your life.

What would have happened if you’d met Mingyu that way? 

What would have happened if you’d met Wonwoo that way? 

At the moment, there’s no question as to which of the two neighbours you prefer. Mingyu is happy and welcoming, he always has a smile, and you could see yourself having a great relationship with him- if things were to take a turn that way.

But on the flip side, Wonwoo is more similar to the type you’ve dated in the past.

If one neighbour is a Doberman, then the other is a Golden Retriever. They’re like night and day, and yet, you’re drawn to both, as if some gravitational or celestial power is pulling you to them… it also helps that they both have motorcycles. 

How had it been so easy to ghost Wonwoo in the past, only to find yourself at a crossroads with his roommate seven months later?

Nine

You’re outside your apartment waiting for an Uber when two familiar men on motorcycles pull up in front of you. 

Wonwoo’s on his Harley. It’s all black, and although you’re not very well verses with motorcycle types, you’re pretty sure it’s a Fat Boy or a Street Bob- but as you stare at the wheels, you begin to lean toward Street Bob. 

Mingyu, in contrast, is on a red Kawasaki Ninja, which is evident by the name on the side. He lifts up his visor when he comes to a stop two feet away. “Hey, neighbour,” he greets you. “Waiting for someone?”

“An Uber is picking me up.”

“An Uber?” Mingyu looks around. “Where are you headed?”

“A family thing. We’re going to be drinking so I figured I shouldn’t drive,” you explain.

“Good idea,” he nods, then, without skipping a beat, he asks, “Wanna ride?”

You gaze shifts from Mingyu to Wonwoo, and you can practically see the Harley rider roll his eyes. With an aggressive rev of his engine, Wonwoo bolts off, leaving you and Mingyu in his dust.

“Uh, don’t you two have plans?” you ask.

“We did, but we were just going for a ride. I can take you where you need to be and meet him later,” Mingyu shrugs. “Seriously, don’t mind him.”

You’ve been on a motorcycle once before, and you know enough to understand that the short romper and light spring jacket you’re wearing is not enough to protect you on the back of a bike. And that’s the least of your worries. “I don’t have a helmet-”

Mingyu begins to undo his, and you watch in shock as he pulls it off, shaking out his hair and offering you the red head gear. “Take mine.”

“Isn’t it illegal to ride without one?”

“We’ll be fast- but not dangerous, I’ll be good, I promise. Where are we going?”

With a deep breath, you pull up your Aunt’s house on your phone’s map app, showing it to Mingyu. 

“I can get you there in ten minutes, easy,” he says. 

“This is not a good idea,” you warn, although you accept the helmet. 

“Cancel your Uber,” Mingyu urges softly. “Let me do this for you.”

With one last sigh, you cancel your ride, then, you allow Mingyu to help you onto the back of his bike. 

“Have you ever been on one of these before?” he asks.

“Once,” you admit, adjusting the helmet on your head before you tentatively wrap your arms around Mingyu’s large body. 

“Just hold on tight.”

“Take care of me,” you retort.

Mingyu grins. “Always.”

A moment later, he’s revving his engine, and the two of you take off on his bike, your clothes whipping around and contorting flat to the curves of your form.

You hold Mingyu tighter, and he takes one hand off his handlebars to rest it over yours for a second, giving you a reassuring squeeze.

When he pulls onto the main road, Mingyu is true to his word about not being dangerous. He doesn’t lane split or push the bike too hard. When you come up to traffic, he waits patiently, resting his elbow on your knee as if this is something the two of you have done together a hundred times before.

You become so lost in how attracted you are to Mingyu- how you have to hug him tight when he accelerates, that the trip is over before you know it. He pulls up to your aunts house, turning to offer you a hand so you can get off the Ninja. 

Your legs feel wobbly as you step on solid ground, and Mingyu helps you with the chin clasp of the helmet, removing it easily. 

“Thanks for being my backpack,” he smiles.

“Thanks for giving me a ride,” you grin back.

“If you want, you can text me when you’re done, and I’ll get you home safe. I’ll even bring a spare helmet this time, and maybe a proper riding jacket for you.”

“That would be really nice actually.”

“You got it, angel,” Mingyu flashes you a wink before he pulls the helmet onto his head. You move to the sidewalk, standing there to watch him as he gives you one last nod and takes off, the engine loud enough to be heard even as he makes it two blocks away in record time.

A low whistle startles you, and you turn to see Jeonghan standing in the driveway. “Damn, that dude was hot.”

“That’s my neighbour,” you sigh.

“Which one?”

“The good one!”

“You should take him up on that offer of hanging out,” Jeonghan suggests.

“And you should keep your nose out of my love life.”

Your cousin simply laughs. “Never going to happen.”

Ten

The jacket Mingyu brings for you when he picks you up from your family gathering is long enough to be a dress. You struggle with the thick material as you try to get on his bike, and you can see Mingyu grinning from the opening in his full face helmet.

“That’s it,” he encourages you, allowing you to settle behind him.

You pat his thigh when you’re good to go, and the two of you slot down your visors before he takes off.

It’s the late evening now, and being on his bike feels different in the dark. The city lights whip past you, and the lanes are pretty empty for Mingyu to go faster. Now that you’re both in full protective gear, there’s not as much of a need to be safe, although, as you hold tightly to your neighbour, you realize this might be as safe as you’ve ever felt.

You trust Mingyu, in a way that you can’t quite explain. 

As it was before, it’s easy to get lost in the act of being on Mingyu’s motorcycle, and before you know it, he’s pulling into your apartment complex’s underground garage. 

You hate that the ride has ended so quickly, and you hate it even more that you have to let go of Mingyu’s large, warm body. You stand next to the motorcycle while he gets off of it, and you wait patiently for him to take off his helmet before he helps you with your own.

“Do you have plans for the rest of the night?” Mingyu asks while the two of you walk toward the elevator.

“Not really,” you admit. In fact, you’re feeling a little tired. You hadn’t drank as much at the family dinner as you thought you would, and sleep sounds pretty good right about now.

“Do you wanna come see my place?”

“I really shouldn’t-”

“If you’re worried about Wonwoo, he went to work before I came to pick you up,”  Mingyu tells you. “Come on, just one drink or something. Don’t you wanna compare your one bedroom to my two bedroom?”

You are curious to see what sort of decorations these two men have- they’re mid to late twenties at best, and you love to laugh. 

“Fine, one drink,” you let out a breath as you enter the elevator, turning to look up at Mingyu. “Why do you care so much if I come over? Like, honestly?”

Mingyu meets your gaze, fiddling with the helmet in his hand. “I guess maybe… because I like you.” He shrugs. “You’re a good neighbour, and an even better backpack. You look cute in my jacket- why wouldn’t I want to get to know you better?”

“That’s a good answer,” you admit with a laugh.

“I’m glad you liked it,” he grins. 

When the two of you exit the elevator, you follow Mingyu past your apartment to his own door. You watch the way he pulls out his keys, fumbling a little to get into his place. He lets you enter first, and you step into the foreign home with a curious gaze.

You slip out of your shoes, undoing his jacket around your shoulders as you wander further into the apartment. The two men are cleaner than you would have expected. The furniture is minimalist, and mostly cream coloured- which isn’t a shade you would have thought would match the motorcycle riding, black wearing men. You wonder how the couch in the den is so well kept- there’s not a hint of stains on the nicely textured cover, no beer or food-

There’s no dirty dishes in the sink, no miscellaneous bowl of car keys and other shit that guys always tend to carry in their pockets.

In fact, this place almost looks like a ‘girl sanctuary,’ the type of pintrest board apartment inspo you’d find online. 

“What do you think?” Mingyu asks, coming up behind you and helping you take off his jacket.

“It’s really nice,” you say honestly. “Not what I expected.”

“I’m a bit of a neat freak,” he admits with a chuckle.

So he’s big, muscled, kind, rides a motorcycle, and he knows how to do housewife cleaning duties? How did you ever manage to score a jackpot like him for a neighbour? 

“Anyways, take a seat on the couch, I’ll grab some beer. You drink beer, right?”

“Sure.” You move to settle into the sofa, and Mingyu brings over two cans of lager from the fridge, cracking one open before he hands it to you. 

“Cheers,” he grins, gently clinking his can against your own. 

You take a sip, focusing on the way Mingyu sits on the other end of the couch, angling his body toward you. “So… you mentioned you work at a tattoo parlour? How did you get into that?”

“I’ve always been into art,” he explains. “My buddy Cheol was more into tattoos with me, opened up his own shop and encouraged me to apprentice with him after I graduated from uni with my arts degree. I wish there was more to it, but I really just got kind of lucky.”

The list of his good qualities just keeps getting better and better- a university educated man? Yes please.

“I guess, maybe what I’m wondering is why you don’t have any tattoos yourself?” you ask, looking at the beautiful unblemished skin shown off by his muscle shirt.

Mingyu laughs, also gazing down at his arms. “Would you judge me if I told you I’m scared of needles.”

“That’s cute,” you grin, sipping your beer. 

“You’re cute,” he retorts, mirroring your motion and trying to hide his smile behind the can in his hand. “Anyways, you said you’d been on a motorcycle before?”

“Yeah, just once.”

“Tell me about it?”

“There’s nothing much to say,” you admit. “Went on a date with a guy, he mentioned he had a sports bike, offered to take me for a ride, so I said yes.”

“So…” Mingyu taps his fingers along his beer can, “you like guys with bikes?”

You let out a laugh. “Maybe.” 

“I’m feeling better and better about my odds,” Mingyu smiles. 

“Your odds are very good,” you tell him. Now it’s your turn to drink in an effort to hide the massive grin on your face.

“Yeah? I was a little worried, I mean, I gave you my number and you didn’t text- took a little bit of convincing to get you on my bike, to get you into the apartment- I hope I didn’t overstep anything there.”

“No, you’re fine,” you assure him. “I can just… be a bit shy sometimes.”

“It’s cute though.”

Your skin heats at the compliment, heart thundering in your rib cage. “What about you? I’m into bikes, are you into cute girls?”

“A hundred percent,” he nods. “They’re my favourite kind.”

“Do you have any experience dating neighbours?”

“No, but I’d like that to change.”

“Do you think being neighbours could complicate things?” you enquire.

“I mean… if I didn’t see you as girlfriend material, then yeah, I’d never turn a neighbour into a hookup, but then again, I’m not huge into hookups to begin with,” Mingyu explains.

“You know… I’m trying to find even one red flag about you, and I’m seriously coming up empty.”

“Is that such a bad thing?”

You smile, looking down at your nearly finished beer. “I guess not.”

“How about you? Any red flags?” he asks. 

Aside from the downright pornographic books you read on the daily? “Probably not.”

“Probably not, huh?” Mingyu chuckles. “Maybe I should be the one keeping a look out for red, but then again, with rose tinted glasses, red wouldn’t stand out that much to me anyways.” 

You’d not expected your night to turn out like this. You’d figured it would be a nice family dinner, some drinking, then an Uber home and sleep. Instead, you’ve been on Mingyu’s bike twice, worn his jacket, his helmet- and now you’re here in his house, with your hot neighbour flirting with you in the most wholesome way-

In your tired state, you’re feeling a little overwhelmed. Your shyness is taking over- the fear of the unknown, of making a misstep, clouding your enjoyment of the peaceful space Mingyu has created in his apartment.

“Listen, don’t take this the wrong way,” you sigh, finishing your beer, “But I’m really tired-”

“Yeah, no worries, I said just one beer and it looks like you’re done,” Mingyu is quick to down the rest of his, reaching out to take your can so he can move to the kitchen. He places the empties under his sink, and you follow, keeping your distance.

“Thank you for this though. I know we didn’t talk for that long, but I feel like I know you better,” you admit. 

“I’ve still got a lot of questions for you,” he grins. “But I’ll save those for another time. I’m not about to get in the way of a girl and her beauty sleep.”

“I appreciate that.” The two of you head to his door, and you slip your shoes on.

“Can I give you a goodbye hug or something?” Mingyu suggests. “It would feel weird letting you leave without one.”

You nod, allowing Mingyu to pull you close to his chest. He’s so tall, your cheek pressed tight to his well defined pecs- and fuck, he smells good. This isn’t the overpowering Gucci type cologne that Soonyoung wears, it’s a more muted, spicy yet clean scent. It’s the type of scent that encourages you to take a deep breath, your body relaxing as your neighbour hugs you.

“Thanks for coming over,” Mingyu whispers.

When you go to pull away, you find yourself tilting your head to look up at him. Your eyes meet, and it feels as if you’re hanging in a moment frozen in time. Your breath catches when his gaze dips down to your mouth, and you know what’s coming next.

His hand cups your cheek, stroking your skin, and he gives you ample opportunity to pull away, but you don’t. You simply stare into his beautiful chocolate brown eyes, waiting for him to make the move that you know is going to capture your heart completely.

When his lips finally touch yours, that sense of relief washes over you again. You shift in his embrace, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck to pull him closer. Mingyu lets out a soft sigh of contentment, parting his mouth ever so slightly so he can lick at your lower lip.

You mirror the motion, your tongues gently clashing. 

You’ve met some guys who try to force their way into your mouth, who try to dominate you- but Mingyu isn’t like that. He’s soft and fluid, reacting to your movements moreso than anything else. His hands slip down to your hips, holding you close while you kiss each other.

No first kiss has ever felt this natural, and like with riding the bike, it becomes so easy to get lost in your neighbour.

When you finally break away, you’re both breathing heavily. You can taste the beer on your lips, and it makes you release a small laugh, giddy joy surging through your entire body.

“That was…” Mingyu swallows thickly, “wow.”

“Yeah,” you agree. “Wow.” 

Eleven

It’s been two weeks since you started getting to know Mingyu better. You’ve gone on motorcycle dates, stopped at food trucks while enjoying the sunshine of spring, and when Wonwoo’s not around, Mingyu has invited you over for movie nights.

While there’s been lots of kissing, and a growing desire for more, the two of you haven’t gone much farther than second base. You kind of like taking things slow with Mingyu, he’s very good at not applying any pressure, and you adore that about him.

You’re hanging out in your apartment when Mingyu calls you, asking if you have any garlic he can borrow for his meal plan. Part of you thinks it’s a little late for dinner, but you agree anyways. 

Sometimes you think he comes up with this sort of thing just to see you, stealing kisses at your door- but this time, when he comes over to grab ingredients, he doesn’t simply wait in the hallway.

“Can I come in?” he asks, peering at your apartment beyond.

“Come in?” you repeat.

“Yeah, I mean, you’ve seen my place, and I haven’t really gotten to see yours yet.” He sounds nonchalant, but you can tell that your personal space - the way you conduct yourself in your own home - is something that makes him curious.

“Okay.” You step away from the door. “Come on in.”

Mingyu bends down to kiss you as he steps over the threshold, and you grin against his lips, enjoying the way his hands softly grab your waist. 

“I’m guessing you didn’t really need garlic, did you?” you tease.

“Nope, I ate dinner after work.” Mingyu takes his shoes off while you close the door behind him, and he looks around your apartment. “It’s nice in here.”

“Thank you.”

“Do you want to give me a tour?” he asks.

You let out a giggle. “Okay.” 

You’ve never given a formal tour of your apartment before, but you do your best, showing him through the kitchen and the small living room area. You’ve got certain knick knacks that are special to you, and you explain them to Mingyu while he listens with a smile.

Finally, you make it to your bedroom. Before you can even open your mouth to say anything, Mingyu’s arms are wrapping around you, his chest pressed to your back, lips on your throat.

He already knows your sweet spots, and you let out a soft sigh, tilting your head to make things easier for him.

“Gyu…”

“Do you want me to stop?” he whispers in your ear, nibbling gently on the lobe.

“No.”

You hadn’t expected this tonight, but you’re at a point now where you don’t want to wait. Mingyu isn’t the type to use you and leave you. He’s made his intentions clear, and the sexual chemistry between the two of you is undeniable. 

You find yourself turning in Mingyu’s embrace, cupping his cheek so you can draw his lips to yours. He lets out an immediate groan of satisfaction, and it goes straight to your core, which flutters with delight. You kiss him deeply, pouring all your wants and desires into the meeting of your mouths.

Then your hands find the bottom of his shirt, and before you know it, you’re stripping the fabric from Mingyu’s body and tracing your hands over the muscles you love so much.

His body jolts when you tease your nails across his lower abdomen, and it prompts Mingyu to reach down, cupping your ass and easily lifting you up. Your legs wrap around his hips, tongues clashing in a lusty battle as he carries you to your bed.

Your hands trace along his strong shoulders as he lays you onto the mattress, looking down at you with blown pupils. He’s breathing heavily already, and you can see the bulge of his cock through his jeans. 

You’ve grinded against him before, sitting on his lap on his couch while he rubs your tits through your comfortable evening sweaters, so you know how big Mingyu is, but knowing he’s about to be inside of you makes your heart race in an entirely different way.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Mingyu asks again, straightening to look down at you.

“Uh huh,” you sit up, meeting his gaze. Then you reach out, undoing his buckle while keeping steady eye contact. 

“Fuck,” Mingyu groans, chest heaving with each breath. “You don’t have to-”

“Don’t have to what?” you tease, moving onto the zipper, which you tug down roughly.

“Don’t have to-” he swallows thickly. “I want to make you feel good.” 

“What if you do that after?” you suggest. “I want to make you feel good first.” 

“Fuck, Angel, okay.” 

“Yeah?” You raise a brow at him, hooking your fingers in his jeans and briefs.

“Yeah,” he nods quickly. “Do whatever you want- whatever you want.”

You tug his pants down, allowing them to bag at his knees. You’re already much too focused on the cock in front of you to care about getting him fully undressed.

Your eyes take in Mingyu’s rock hard length. You’re not great with measurements, but you swear he must be seven or eight inches. He’s got a pretty mushroom tip, all flushed and pink. There’s a prominent vein running along the underside of him, and it makes your mouth water.

You haven’t sucked cock in a while, but you’d read a very good erotica about it last night, and you know exactly what to do. 

Grabbing the base of him, you angle Mingyu’s cock slightly upward, running your tongue along the vein.

“Shit,” Mingyu groans, hands flying to your head. He doesn’t apply any pressure, simply strokes you as you take the tip past your lips, suckling on it and twirling your tongue. “You’re- fuck, you’re good at this.”

You let out a happy hum, and the vibration makes him twitch, pushing him further into your mouth. 

Your eyes are closed now, and you allow yourself to enjoy the act of pleasuring Mingyu. After being so patient with you over the past few weeks, he deserves it. The sounds he’s letting out are more than enough encouragement for you, and soon, your drool begins to drip down to your fingers, making it easier for you to pump his neglected shaft.

There’s no way in Hell you’ll ever be able to fit all of him in your mouth, but unless he’s used to dating women schooled in oral aerobics or some shit, you doubt any of his past lovers have ever achieved that feat either.

Instead, you focus most of your attention on the tip, knowing that the head of his cock is where he’s got a lot of his nerve endings. 

Your tongue dips along his slit, tasting the salty precum. Mingyu moans loudly above you, fingers threading through your hair.

“If you keep doing that, I’m gonna cum too fast,” he warns you.

Part of you wants him to cum, so you go even harder- only for Mingyu to gently pull you off of him.

You blink up at the gorgeous man, pleased to find that he’s flushed. His chest, shoulders, neck and cheeks are all a pretty pink colour, and he’s panting heavily. “Seriously, Angel, I don’t want to cum yet.”

“What if I want you to cum?”

“I’m not making you swallow the first time we sleep together,” Mingyu states, and you can tell that it’s a hard boundary. “And I’m not cumming on you either- I think…” he licks his lips, “I think it’s my turn to make you feel good now.” 

“Yeah?”

He nods. “Yeah.”

Then Mingyu leans down over you, grabbing your shirt and tugging it off. Your pants are discarded next, left on the floor next to his own while he adjusts you on your bed.

He’s left your bra and panties on, and when his lips find yours again, you kind of appreciate that he’s intent on more foreplay.

Your core is aching through the cotton fabric, and your nipples are pressing up toward the cups still confining them. It’s driving you crazy as he kisses you deeply, but then one of his hands reaches up to massage you through your bra, and you let out a sinful whine.

“Take it off,” you whimper, “please.”

Mingyu’s mouth moves from your lips to your throat, and he reaches under you, undoing the clasp. He gently pulls the bra from your form, and his kisses finally make it to your breasts. 

His soft hair is teasing your skin with each kiss, but when his lips wrap around your sensitive nipple, you can’t even find it within yourself to care about the slight ticklish sensation. Mingyu’s got your full attention now, his teeth gently dragging across the hardened bud, making you cry out even louder.

You grab at his broad shoulders, holding onto him for dear life, wriggling under his large form. 

His cock is pressing between your legs, rubbing against your pussy through the thin fabric of your panties.

“Fuck, Gyu-” you whimper. “I want you so bad.”

He groans in response, moving to your other breast to pay it as much attention as he had the first. Your neighbour takes his time, and you enjoy every second of it, although you’re absolutely desperate for more.

You want him to take the lead, as you lean more toward a submissive temperament in bed, despite the ballsy way you’d approach sucking his cock for the first time.

You wonder if he’s aching the way you are- if he’s throbbing with need for you the way your pussy is already trying to clench around nothing, anticipating the cock that’s going to split you open in a way that no man ever has before. 

Unable to help yourself anymore, you reach down between your bodies, grabbing his length and pumping him gently. Mingyu groans against your breasts, giving you one last lick before he brings his mouth up to your own again.

“Angel, fuck-” he practically whimpers, thrusting toward your hand. “You’re not ready yet.”

“I’m ready,” you try to assure him.

“Trust me,” Mingyu’s hand slips into your panties, two fingers teasing your core, “As wet as you are, you’re not ready for me.”

“Gyu-” You want to argue, but when he pushes two digits into your core, you realize he’s right. Because even with two fingers, you feel like he’s stretching your tight walls. 

You’re so wet that it makes it easy for Mingyu to begin finger fucking you, his mouth finding your throat so he can kiss your sweet spot desperately while you continue to stroke his cock. 

“Wanna make you cum once,” he groans, “before- fuck, before I take you.”

Your core throbs at his words, and it’s clear from the smile you feel against your skin that Mingyu can feel the way your body is reacting to him.

“Do you like when I talk dirty to you, Angel?” he asks.

“Yeah.” You nod, applying more pressure as you stroke him off.

“You’re already taking my fingers so well, who got you this wet?”

“You did, Gyu,” you whimper.

“Can you cum with just fingers? Or should I rub your sensitive little clit too?”

“My clit-”

His palm immediately finds the bud of nerves, and you let out a strangled gasp, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. “Fuck-” Your hand stops on his cock in favour of grabbing both of his shoulders.

“Like this?” he asks, applying a little more pressure that has you wiggling beneath him. 

“Yeah, just like that,” you groan, threading your fingers through his hair, guiding him to continue kissing your throat while he finger fucks you open.

“Have you wanted this as much as I have?”

“Even more,” you confess.

“Not possible,” he retorts, but by the squelching of your pussy, you’re pretty sure you have him beat. You don’t have the energy or the mental focus to fight him on this, so you simply give in to the pleasure he’s providing you. “So good for me.”

“Gyu-” you whimper, legs shaking as your orgasm builds much too fast in the pit of your stomach.

“Always so good for me,” he continues. “The best backpack. The best neighbour. The best girl-”

You cry out as your orgasm slams into you with no warning. Something about this brand of praise has made you feral, and your core throbs around Mingyu’s fingers as he works you through your high.

“Just like that,” he coos. “So good for me.”

You draw his lips to yours, kissing him breathlessly. He kisses you back, tongue invading your mouth and gently stroking your own.

You’re practically shaking by the time your orgasm is over, and Mingyu pulls his hand out of your panties. “I’m gonna take these off now,” he tells you, pressing a kiss to your nose. “And grab a condom.”

“Actually…” You bite at your lip, meeting his gaze. “I’m on birth control.”

He pauses for a moment, and you can see the wheels practically turning in his head. “And… I mean, I know I’m clean-”

“I’m clean too,” you assure him. ‘It’s uh… it’s been a while for me, since I… well, you know.”

You can feel your skin heating at the admission of your near celibacy over the past few months. While you’ve imagined fucking all sorts of heros and villains in your books, the only thing that’s been inside you recently has been your six inch glittery pink dildo.

“And you uh… you want me to cum inside?” Mingyu clarifies.

“Please?”

Mingyu lets out a shaky breath, then he nods. “Okay, yeah, I can do that.”

He tugs your panties down your legs, and before you know it, the two of you are completely naked. Mingyu returns between your thighs, his arm muscles bulging as he holds himself over you, one hand grabbing the base of his cock so he can tease himself through your pussy lips.

“Can I convince you to let me eat you out first?”

“I need you,” you tell him, on the verge of crying if you don’t get your way.

“Another time, then.”

“Another time,” you agree with a laugh.

The tip of his cock teases by your clit and it makes your entire body jolt at the sensitivity.

“If it’s uh… if it’s too much,” Mingyu licks his lips, tearing his gaze from your core so he can look you in the eyes, “if it’s too much just let me know and I’ll stop.”

“Gyu, please, I’ll be okay-” you try to assure him, although, you’re not sure if you’re even certain with yourself on this one. There’s a possibility you might not even be able to walk tomorrow, but that’s a risk you’re more than willing to take.

He brings the tip of his cock down to your wet hole, gently pushing into you. The head alone is enough to have you moaning, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and throwing your head back against the pillows.

“Fuck-”

“Yeah,” his breath is hot against your chest, “I know, I’m sorry.”

It’s so endearing that the man is sorry his cock is so big.

“Don’t be sorry,” you let out a laugh, “I’ll just have to get used to you.”

“I like the sound of that,” Mingyu admits, pushing another inch past your wet walls. “Fuck, you have no idea how good you feel.”

“Just wait till you’re fully inside of me,” you whisper, closing your eyes and doing your best to relax your body so you can take him.

Mingyu lets out a groan, hips gently thrusting so he can coat his cock in your wet juices. Each movement has him burying deeper and deeper, earning sounds of pleasure from your lips. 

Your nails claw at his shoulders, but it’s clear that Mingyu is too focused on your pussy to even care or notice. 

“Almost there,” he tells you, capturing his bottom lip between his teeth.

Nothing in the world has ever felt like Mingyu, and as his hips finally come flush to your own and he lets out a sigh of relief, you know that there’s no coming back from this. 

You both groan “Fuck” in unison, crashing your lips together a moment later as he begins to move. He starts off slow and gentle, his cock hitting spots so deep that you swear he’s rearranging your guts

You’ve spent years reading erotica, imagining what great sex would really look like, and now, you’re finally experiencing it for yourself.

You’ve never gone completely mind numb for someone before, but with Mingyu, you’re reduced to feral instinct. Sounds like the ones leaving your lips right now are not sounds that have ever come out of you before, and you swear you’ve never been this wet in your life.

Each thrust has Mingyu’s tip rubbing against a place that has you seeing stars, and as he picks up his pace, it’s the most you can do to keep kissing him even while wanting to scream with pleasure.

Your nails dig into his shoulders, and when Mingyu releases a grunt, bringing his mouth to your throat so he can gently bite at your skin, you realize he kind of likes the pain.

The thought has your pussy tingling with even more delight, and Mingyu groans loudly.

“So good,” he moans. “So fucking good.”

“Don’t stop, please, fuck- no one has ever fucked me like this before-”

From the way Mingyu fucks you even harder, it’s clear he also has a praise kink. It’s funny how often praise and pain go hand in hand in pleasure.

You’re thankful for all the books you’ve read about this sort of thing, because they allow you to read Mingyu in a way that you’ve never imagined being able to read someone. He wears his heart on his sleeve, and you adore it.

Mingyu lifts his thigh, angling himself better on the bed so each thrust can go as deep as possible. Your headboard is hitting the wall now, and part of you almost wishes Wonwoo was home so you could annoy him with the sound as much as he’s annoyed you with it.

But at the same time, you’re glad Wonwoo is probably at work. As interesting as being a vouyer is when you’re the one listening in, due to your interesting past with your Harley loving neighbour, you’re not sure how you’d feel about him being privy to this intimate moment you’re sharing with Mingyu.

It’s clear Mingyu is completely present with you. From the sounds escaping him, you know that he’s not thinking about anyone else listening in. His ability to be completely enraptured by you makes it easier for you to get lost in him again, and when you draw his lips to yours, your mind goes pleasantly blank once more.

You’re not sure how long he fucks you like this, but soon, his hand finds your clit again, and you realize he wants you to cum with him.

“Can you give me one more?” he asks, looking down at you with those eyes you’ve come to adore.

“Yeah,” you nod, already feeling the tightening of your abdominal muscles. You’re still sensitive from your first orgasm, and it’s way too easy for him to get you there again, especially with the way his cock drags against your inner walls and sets your entire body on fire.

“Fuck, you’re getting so tight, Angel, holy shit-” Mingyu groans deeply, pressing his forehead against your own. Each panting breath, each whimpered moan and grunt that escapes Mingyu has you closer and closer to the edge.

He should seriously consider getting a job reading erotica for money, like on the Quinn app or something, because fuck, no man has ever sounded this sexy before. 

“Come on,” he encourages you, “I won’t be able to last, fuck- you’re gonna cum with me, right?”

“Yeah-”

“You’re close?”

“Yes-” You dig your nails into his shoulders, closing your eyes and focusing on the way he’s circling your clit. 

“Please, please, please,” he practically begs, bringing his lips to your ear. “Be a good girl and cum for me again, come on, Angel, cum on my cock.”

You explode around him, crying out. Your legs tighten around his hips, and Mingyu’s entire body shudders as he cums with you. You can feel your core throbbing around him, milking him of his cum as he fills you to your absolute limit.

You’re both gasping, holding each other like life lines while orgasms ravage your bodies. It’s Heaven, but from the way your muscles are contracting, it’s also a little bit of Hell. Nothing has felt this good, but you know you’re going to be exhausted in the morning- fuck, you’re already exhausted.

Mingyu’s thrusts have faltered, but he tries to ride you through your highs. Soon, he’s half collapsing on top of you, your sweaty chests pressed together. Then he’s kissing you desperately, and it feels like you’re both pouring a thousand unsaid words into the meeting of your lips.

You make out for a short while, and then Mingyu pulls out of you, reaching for the kleenex box on your nightstand. “Here,” he offers, holding it between your thighs to stop any cum from dripping onto the bed.

“Thanks,” you let out a small laugh. “I’m gonna head to the bathroom.”

“Good idea.”

Your legs are wobbly when you stand up, and it reminds you of the first time you’d gotten off the back of his bike.

You don’t mind Mingyu making it hard for you to walk, in both ways.

Inside the bathroom, you do your best to use the toilet and clean up the cum. After double checking yourself in the mirror and deciding to brush your teeth for good measure, you head back to your bedroom… which is where you find Mingyu flipping through the most recent book you’ve been reading.

Your heart lurches into your throat, body freezing in the doorway. 

“I didn’t know you read this sort of thing,” Mingyu muses, looking up at you.

“What?” you squeak.

“Erotica,” he responds casually. “This seems interesting though.”

You slowly approach the bed, joining Mingyu under the covers while he reaches to put your book back on your nightstand. 

“Uh…” you don’t even know what to say. “I didn’t mean for you to see that.”

Mingyu laughs, pulling you close to his chest. “Why not? It’s not like I’m judging you.”

“You’re not?”

“Nope. Why would I? I think I read somewhere that men like visual porn and women lean towards the written stuff, nothing to be ashamed of.”

He really is the perfect man.

“Plus, I keep seeing shit on tiktok about booktok girls needing their bikertok boy, I don’t mind filling that role for you.” Another nonchalant comment that makes your heart do somersaults. “Although… aren’t all of you booktok girls into masked men and threesomes and shit?”

His words make you hide your face against his chest, shyness overcoming you. 

“Sorry, was that an overstep?” he laughs, rubbing your back with a large, warm hand.

“No, I’m just not used to talking about this, especially not with guys I just slept with.”

“The erotica you read is the fantasy you’re interested in, it would be a shame never to talk about it,” Mingyu muses. “That threesome between the demon knight and the guardian angel seemed pretty interesting.”

“God, you really weren’t supposed to read the book on my nightstand.” You can feel your skin getting hotter with embarrassment with each passing second.

“You’re adorable.” Mingyu cuddles you closer. “Look, I’m just going to put this out there, and if your answer is a no, then it’s a no… If you ever did want to try a threesome, Wonwoo would be into it.”

Now your heart is really racing, and your entire body stiffens in Mingyu’s embrace.

“Shit, my bad for even suggesting it,” Mingyu apologizes immediately.

“It’s not that…” you take a deep breath. If you’re going to continue things with Mingyu, he needs to know about your past - however unimportant it is - with Wonwoo. “Look… I uh… I matched with Wonwoo on a dating app last summer, nothing came out of it, but, I don’t know, I still feel awkward around him.”

Mingyu is silent for a few seconds, and you’re too scared to look up at his face, too scared of the expression you might find there.

“That would actually explain a lot,” Mingyu says finally. 

“It would?”

“Yeah, when I first introduced you two, he was more of an asshole than usual. And that first time I offered you a ride on my bike, he just took off. I kind of chalked it up to him being socially awkward sometimes around cute girls, but, now things make a bit more sense.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.”

“It’s all good,” Mingyu assures you, rubbing your back. “Honestly, I’m pretty tired. How do you feel about the two of us staying here tonight, cuddling till we fall asleep, and talking more about this in the morning?”

You let out a sigh of relief. “That actually sounds perfect.”

Twelve - Wonwoo

As if listening to you and Mingyu fuck the first time wasn’t enough, Wonwoo had been woken up at three am, and then again at seven to the sound of your moans carrying through his walls.

His room is dark thanks to his black out curtains, but in the blackness of his room, Wonwoo finally snaps. He’d done his best to wear noise cancellers the first time, to put his head under his pillow the second, but now, Wonwoo has lost all of his resolve.

Your small whimpers are simply too hard to resist, and as Wonwoo’s hand slips down to his aching cock, he can’t help but wonder what would have happened if things had worked out with you all those months ago. It could be him that you’re under right now, not his best friend, and that’s a conflicting thought. 

Wonwoo lets out a quiet sigh as he begins to stroke his hard length. He closes his eyes, focusing on the muffled sounds of pleasure that make it through the walls.

When Mingyu had first mentioned that Wonwoo’s escapades had been keeping you up, he’d dismissed it, but now after being woken three times, he can see your annoyance. 

He’ll have to try to go easier on you. 

As Wonwoo works himself up to your moans, he wonders if you’ve ever been in this exact situation; touching yourself while he got off with someone else just a few feet through a wall.

The thought sends a shiver up Wonwoo’s spine and he shifts under his duvet, tossing the fabric off of himself, abdominal muscles clenching with delight.

From the sound of Mingyu’s thrusts and the headboard hitting the wall, Wonwoo’s pretty sure Mingyu is close already- fuck, he would be too if he had you to bury his morning wood into. And from the noises escaping you, Wonwoo knows you’re just as close.

He applies more pressure to his aching cock, speeding up his strokes- Wonwoo wants to cum with you and his roommate, although he’s not quite sure why. 

Sure, once you both cum, his entertainment is over, but there’s a need to be paired with you both, something that goes beyond a voyeuristic act like watching porn, which he could easily switch to when you’re finished if he wanted to prolong the experience.

A muffled “Fuck, I’m close” has Wonwoo’s entire body tensing, and as your moans crescendo, the tightly wound knot inside of him snaps. He lets out a gasp, pumping his cock while ropes of his own cum paint his chest. 

He wishes his hand was you, but the image of you instead of his hand is enough to make another wave of pleasure pass over him. He works himself through it to the point of overstimulation, finally stopping when the headboard sounds cease.

Wonwoo lays there for a moment, eyes closed, catching his breath.

When he finally turns his phone flashlight on and looks down at his chest, he realizes he’s cum more listening to you and Mingyu fuck than he’s probably ever cum inside of a girl.

It’s then that Wonwoo realizes how truly screwed he is. 

Thirteen

Seungkwan had nearly spat out his drink when you’d revealed Mingyu’s offer to invite Wonwoo into your bed. Soonyoung’s jaw had dropped, and it’s stayed that way. Seokmin looks like he’s having a panic attack, his cheeks all flushed, his hands tugging at the neckline of his dress shirt.

“So what are you going to do?” Seungkwan asks finally, taking a sip of his Gin and Tonic with his wide eyes glued to you.

“I’m honestly not sure,” you admit, letting out a sigh.

“Bitch,” Seungkwan rolls his eyes, “don’t give us that. You read smutty threesome shit all the time, and here you are, being propositioned by your hot neighbour and his best friend, who both ride motorcycles, I might add- this is a fucking no brainer and we all know it.”

“You’ve been wanting a proper fuck session forever,” Soonyoung agrees.

“It’s actually like… one of your biggest things,” Seokmin points out, nodding. 

“But don’t you think this would be messy?” you ask. “Like, if these were randoms I’d never see again, it would be one thing- but they live next to me, and I’m low key dating Mingyu. Wonwoo doesn’t seem like the polyamory type.”

“Babes,” Seungkwan reaches a hand across the table to squeeze your forearm, “This doesn’t have to be polyamory. Wonwoo can just be some dude that fucks you with his bestie sometimes. You can mostly focus on Mingyu, I mean, after all, we all know you and Wonwoo don’t even really like each other after the whole… ghosting thing.” 

“Which is so valid,” Seokmin assures you, also reaching out to grab your hand. “Who suggests a group motorcycle trip as a first date, that was very stupid.”

“Plus, didn’t you mention hearing Wonwoo fuck some girl through your wall?” Soonyoung asks, playing with the straw in his bellini. “I bet you’re wondering why she was being so loud. I mean, obviously his dick game must be good.”

“I have been wondering,” you admit. “Mingyu is so soft with me, so good and gentle- Wonwoo seems like he might be the opposite.”

“And you’ll never really know until you give this a try.” Seungkwan pats your hand encouragingly. “I think you have your answer, babes. Go make those smutty dreams of yours come true, or you’ll regret it the rest of your life.” 

Fourteen

Mingyu’s been coming over more and more often. Even though his place is just next door, he tends to have a preference for holding you until he passes out in your bed. You don’t mind, being in his arms helps you get the best rest you’ve had in ages, and you never feel closer to him than you do when you wake up next to him in the morning.

It’s a Sunday, and you’re laying in bed. Mingyu had gotten up, decided he’d wanted you for breakfast, fucked your brains out, and now, you’re stroking each others skin while you catch your breaths.

“Are you thinking about something?” Mingyu asks, and you realize he must have noted your silence.

You take a deep breath, looking up into his eyes. He’s done his best to foster an environment of safety- you know you can talk to him about anything, and now seems as good a time as any to broach a few subjects that have been weighing you down.

“What are we doing?” you ask.

“We’re cuddling?”

You let out a laugh. “No, I mean… what are we doing? Like… I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you, and from the way you spoke at the start of all of this, it sounded like you were looking for a relationship, but ever since you mentioned inviting Wonwoo into bed, I guess I’m just a little confused about… the trajectory of this. Sharing the girl you want to date exclusively with your bestie just doesn’t seem like a usual start to a new relationship.” 

“Valid question,” he nods. “I can see where I caused some confusion… I guess, I mean- It’s not that I want to date you exclusively, I already am dating you exclusively, and I have been since the start.”

While this is news to you, you suppose it’s not the most surprising thing. Mingyu has been spending so much time with you lately, he’d have to be Superman or the world’s more snakey person to be able to juggle anyone else.

“When it comes to the whole Wonwoo thing- If I’m being honest, we’ve been friends forever. We’ve had like… three or four threesomes together? So I guess I feel comfortable inviting him because we have that foundation of trust there, and based on the stuff you read - correct me if I’m wrong - but I think a threesome is on your bucket list.”

Now this is some hot gossip. You’d never for a moment considered the idea that Wonwoo and Mingyu have shared girls together before- but now that the idea is out in the open, you feel stupid for it having never crossed your mind. 

“So there really wouldn’t be any jealousy or any problems if Wonwoo joined us?” you clarify.

“There never have been before. Wonwoo’s not the relationship type. If I honestly thought there would be a problem, I wouldn’t have brought it up,” Mingyu tells you. “Sounds like you’re open to it.”

“I am,” you admit. “Also… I’m exclusively seeing you too, by the way.”

Mingyu laughs. “I know, Angel. Wonwoo is an exception, the only exception.”

“Agreed.” 

“So…” Mingyu pulls you tighter to his chest. “Are we gonna bring this up with him?”

“Do you want to ask him?”

“I think we should do it together.”

The idea of bringing this up with Wonwoo makes your heart race. “You think he’ll react okay?”

“Angel, he matched with you on Tinder before, and tried to take you out three times, even if you did ghost him, you’re way too sexy for him to ever say no to.”

Fifteen

When you’d arrived at Mingyu’s place after dinner, he’d suggested a movie night. Wonwoo usually gets off work around one am, and with his Harley, Mingyu expected him to be back at one thirty at the latest. 

Around midnight, you’d fallen asleep, with Mingyu following close behind, and when the sound of the front door unlocking finally pulls you from your slumber, a quick check at the clock tells you it’s already past two.

Mingyu groans behind you, pulling you closer, pressing his lips to the back of your neck. 

Wonwoo walks into the den area in time to see the exchange, and he pauses by the open concept kitchen, staring at you in the dim darkness of the space. 

“What are you doing out here on the couch?” he asks.

“We were waiting for you,” you say softly, pushing at Mingyu’s hand in an effort to wake him up fully.

Wonwoo stays quiet, and after a moment, Mingyu finally groans and sits up, turning to look at his best friend. Mingyu rubs at his eyes, yawning. “We have something to talk to you about,” he mumbles.

“Let's hear it,” Wonwoo sighs, setting his helmet and gloves onto the kitchen counter before he goes to remove his leather jacket.

“You know what… maybe it’s too late for this,” you suggest, turning to look at Mingyu.

“Don’t be shy,” he encourages you, pulling you closer and kissing your throat. 

You note the way your body reacts, head tilting to the side to give him better access. It’s clear that you’re not as afraid of being watched as you’d thought you might be, and when your gaze shifts to Wonwoo, you find him staring at the place where you and Mingyu’s bodies connect.

A muscle in his jaw feathers, and you see the way his fist clenches at his side, but he stays silent.

“Do you want me to do it?” Mingyu asks.

“Yes, please.”

Mingyu gives a reassuring kiss to your cheek. “I know you two have a past-” he begins.

“She told you about that, did she?” Wonwoo interrupts.

“Uh huh, she’s a good girl like that,” Mingyu holds you tighter. “Anyways, I know you two have a past, and I know you’re attracted to each other-”

“Mingyu.” There’s a warning tone in Wonwoo’s voice now, and it makes your skin tingle. 

“I’m too tired to do this right,” Mingyu sighs, “but listen, she wants to try a threesome, we’ve done threesomes, I figured I’d put it on the table, if you’re interested.”

Wonwoo stands in the kitchen for a moment, then he lets out a sigh, turning and placing both of his hands on the counter. He looks down at the ground, and you wonder what’s going through his head.

“Aren’t you two dating?” he asks finally.

You open your mouth to respond but decide to shut it, turning to Mingyu to allow him to answer. “Yeah, I mean, we’re exclusive.”

“How can you be exclusive if you’re inviting me into a fucking threesome?” Wonwoo snaps.

“Because you’re you,” Mingyu shrugs. “Why do you seem mad?”

Wonwoo lets out a deep sigh. “This isn’t the right way to start a relationship, Gyu.”

You find it comical that Wonwoo - of all people - is trying to school Mingyu on how to treat a girl. 

“I’m pretty confident in us,” Mingyu grins, pressing a kiss to your cheek. You kind of love how sure he is, and it makes your trust in the budding relationship feel even stronger. “Look, if you don’t want to-”

“I want to.” 

It feels like the air is knocked from your lungs. Yes, you’ve considered this for weeks, but part of you never really thought it would get this far, never thought Wonwoo would actually agree-

“I’ve been listening to you two fuck through a wall for weeks,” Wonwoo continues. “Of course I fucking want to.”

“So what’s the problem?” Mingyu asks, brows furrowing at why his friend still sounds so angry.

Wonwoo turns to look at you. “This is going to complicate things.”

“Only if you let it,” Mingyu argues. “Look, you’re both overthinkers, and I get that, but with me here, I’ll keep us all grounded, I promise.”

“It’s not that easy,” Wonwoo sighs.

“It can be, if you both let it be.” He sounds so sure, and you want to believe him on this-

“So is this just going to be a one time thing?” Wonwoo asks, and you note the way his gaze shifts from his roommate to you. Then you feel Mingyu’s eyes too.

“Uh… I hadn’t thought that far,” you admit.

“We could always just go with the flow,” Mingyu suggests.

“You know I’m not that kind of guy,” Wonwoo retorts.

“Honestly, I know it was just a simple case of ghosting, but you two don’t seem to actually like each other that much,” Mingyu points out, “unless I’m misreading something. So how about we give it a shot, and go from there?”

Wonwoo looks to you, and after a moment to consider it, you nod, he mirrors the motion soon after.

“Fine. I’m in.”

“Can you try to sound more enthusiastic?” Mingyu teases. “This is my Angel I’m letting you get a taste of.”

“Don’t test your luck,” Wonwoo warns. “Are we doing this right now?”

“I’m already half hard just thinking about it,” Mingyu grins. “Are you up for this, Angel?”

Things are happening a little fast for you, but you worry that if you don’t bite the bullet and try this now, you might chicken out if you give yourself enough time to overthink and talk yourself out of it. 

“Let’s do it,” you respond. 

Wonwoo stares at you from the kitchen, and you wait to see who will move first. Finally, Wonwoo nods. “Okay, my room.”

He walks away without another word. Mingyu is quick to get up, reaching down to tug you to your feet. You’re a little shocked at how abrupt Wonwoo is being, and how quick Mingyu is to act on Wonwoo’s locational choice.

You’ve never seen the inside of Wonwoo’s room, and you find it even more minimally furnished than the rest of the apartment. With nothing but a bed, a dresser and a gaming station set up, Wonwoo clearly has very few loves in his life. There are no books, no clothes strewn about- it almost looks like a room straight from the Ikea Catalogue with the theme ‘my ocd teenage gamer’s sanctuary.’

The only thing of any true interest, is a tiled wall mount light piece, and from the way Wonwoo is standing near it and looking down at his phone, you’re pretty sure it’s bluetooth. As Mingyu leads you to go sit with him on the bed, the tiles begin to change colour, and you’re not even surprised when Wonwoo goes for a red hue that makes this entire situation feel correctly sinful.

Mingyu sits behind you, prompting you to settle on his lap. His hands find your thighs, stroking you through your sweatpants. You can tell he’s waiting on something, and when Wonwoo finally looks up at the two of you, setting his phone down, you realize just how much power you’re about to hand over to the man you’d ghosted all those months ago.

Wonwoo approaches you and Mingyu, coming to stand right in front of you. He meets your gaze, but he’s quiet. You hold your tongue, knowing that now is not the time to start being a brat.

“So,” Wonwoo says finally. “My guess is Mingyu’s been going easy on you since you started fucking.”

Mingyu lets out a laugh behind you, and you find yourself wanting to defend him. “I wouldn’t say he’s been going easy on me-”

“I’m going to make an assessment, and you’re going to tell me if I’m wrong,” Wonwoo states. “You look like the kind of girl who wants to be dominated. The shy ones can sometimes be the kinkiest girls you’ll ever meet, and something tells me that if you’re interested in a threesome - interested enough to let me be the one to come in here and fuck you - you’ve got some specific itches that need to be scratched. Mingyu’s a vanilla boy. He doesn’t even like to call sleeping with a girl fucking. I’m betting he gives you everything you want, never makes you work for it, or beg for it, or any of that shit. The guy wakes up three times a night to rail you for fuck’s sake. So I’m guessing, even though he probably meets most of your needs, there’s something you’re missing that Mingyu thinks I can provide.”

Mingyu’s mouth finds your throat, pressing soft kisses that wordlessly tell you he’s not about to answer this assessment, it’s fully on you.

“I…” you swallow thickly. “I guess, I mean, that sounds correct.”

“You’re happy with Mingyu.” It’s more of a statement than a question, but you find the need to answer it anyways, so you nod quickly. 

“Very happy.”

“But he doesn’t dominate you.”

You shake your head.

“And tonight, you want someone to tell you what to do.”

You nod.

“You want someone to make you scream the way I made that other girl scream, the girl that kept you up at night. You want what I was giving her.”

“God, yes,” you admit, letting out a shuddery breath. You can feel Mingyu smile against your throat, and he wraps his arms tighter around you, holding you close to his chest. You can feel his cock straining up against your ass, and it’s driving you wild already.

“What’s off the table?” Wonwoo asks. “Be thorough.”

“I think… no anal. Hard pass on anal, at least, right now,” you start. “And… please don’t be mean to me? Like… don’t degrade me?”

“If you’re our good girl, there will be no reason to degrade you, will there?” Wonwoo says smoothly, reaching out to cup your jaw. His thumb brushes by your lips and you open your mouth for him, accepting the digit that presses flat to your tongue. “See, you’re just a good girl looking for direction, there won’t be a problem tonight.”

He removes his hand, and part of you mourns the loss. 

“Everything else is on the table?” he clarifies.

“Nothing gross.”

“Nothing gross,” Wonwoo repeats with a laugh. “I guess that’s all subjective, but I get what you mean.”

God, you wonder what dirty, nasty things this man has done in his lifetime. 

“Safeword?” Wonwoo asks next.

You take a deep breath, only needing a moment to consider one. “Harley.” 

Mingyu groans behind you, his hands teasing up your thighs, closer and closer to where you need him while he begins to suck on your sweet spot. You can tell from his reaction that the safe word pleased him, and you know that everyone is aware how close you are to letting the fun actually begin.

Wonwoo has done his due diligence, now, he just has to do you.

“Gyu, how about you get her warmed up?” Wonwoo suggests, and the man you’re sitting on wastes no time with the request. Mingyu immediately slips his hand under the waistband of your sweatpants, fingers finding your clit through your panties while you squirm on his lap.

“Fuck,” Mingyu groans, “she’s so wet already.”

“That’s no surprise,” Wonwoo says nonchalantly, pivoting and moving away.

You watch him go, curious as to what he’s up to. Mingyu, meanwhile, is focused on getting your attention. He pushes your panties to the side, stroking your pussy, teasing as if he’s about to dip his fingers into you, only to circle your clit again.

You snap way too easily, turning to press kisses along his jaw. You reach a hand up to cup his cheek, prompting him to meet your lips. All it takes is a little tongue action for Mingyu to also break, finally slipping a digit into your wet core.

You whimper at the feeling, grinding down on his hand. The wiggling of your hips adds friction to the front of Mingyu’s pants, and he releases his own groan of pleasure. 

He adds a second finger and you find yourself gasping. Your thighs spread to accommodate Mingyu. His slow stroking is driving you wild, and the ever constant pressure on your clit only intensifies the situation.

“Lay her down,” Wonwoo’s voice snaps you out of your Mingyu haze, and you break the kiss to blink up at Wonwoo.

You notice something in his hands, but before you can get a better look, Mingyu is pulling his hand from your core and standing up, taking you with him. 

He gently places you onto the bed, tearing off your pants. His fingers go to hook in your underwear, but one tutting sound from Wonwoo makes him stop in his tracks.

“Leave those on for now,” Wonwoo instructs. “You might be skipping things because you’re needy, but I remember your panty kink.”

Panty kink? Mingyu has a panty kink?

Fuck.

You wonder how much Wonwoo knows about Mingyu’s sexual preferences, things that you haven’t even learned yet.

No matter how worried you were about this before you agreed to a threesome, it’s becoming more and more clear that Wonwoo might carry the keys to unlocking Mingyu’s full potential in bed- now, you’re worried what that means for the fully monogamous aspect of your relationship.

“Take off your shirt and bra for us,” Wonwoo prompts next. “I want to see you.”

His voice had softened at the end of the request, and the fact that Wonwoo has a good mix between commanding, and a tone that’s almost on the pleading side, has you immediately making good on what he’s just asked of you.

You slip your shirt off, tossing it onto the floor. Arching your back, you get at the clasp of your bra, and soon, it joins the discarded fabric next to the bed.

Mingyu gets onto the mattress between your thighs, his hands stroking up your legs, which spread for him again.

“Here,” Wonwoo tosses the thing he’d been holding onto your chest.

When you pick it up, you realize it’s a blindfold.

Wonwoo meets your questioning gaze. “Put that on. You trust us, right?” 

You swallow thickly, then, you slip on the blindfold, obscuring your vision completely.

“That’s our good girl,” Wonwoo muses, and his satisfaction has your core throbbing. He’s being a lot nicer than you’d hoped he would be- part of you had wondered if this would a rage fueled fuck, revenge for the ghosting. But the way Wonwoo’s treating you- it’s clear he has no animosity toward you for your past, regardless of the cold way he’s been acting toward you up until tonight.

Even with the blindfold, it’s clear who’s still rubbing your legs. And when Mingyu shifts his weight, bending down to press kisses along your inner thighs, you know it’s still him.

Although there aren’t any surprises happening in terms of who is touching you, with your vision cut off, every brush of Mingyu against your skin feels even more intense. Without the pressure of keeping your eyes open, or following the action with your gaze, you can simply lay back and enjoy what’s happening.

Mingyu’s mouth reaches your core, and his breath through the fabric makes you twitch.

When his tongue makes contact with your wet panties, you both let out groans. The world seems suspended in anticipated pleasure, if even just for a moment, before Mingyu practically dives in.

His tongue pushes at your panties, and the teasing aspect of his muscle prodding at your core has your stomach already twisting into knots. It’s like he’s trying to devour your underwear, trying to push his tongue through so he can get at you-

You’d never imagined keeping your pussy covered with a thin piece of fabric would reveal to you how desperate Mingyu is to properly be eating you.

Your hands reach down, tangling in Mingyu’s hair, and you begin to grind against his face, using his nose to add pressure to your clit.

Something brushes by your nipple, and you practically jump at the contact. Then, the soft bud is pinched between two fingers. It’s not a hard pinch, not enough to hurt, but enough to have your pussy throbbing even more from the idea of pain. 

You also know that it’s Wonwoo who has finally decided to touch you, and you’re kind of scared of the effect that’s having.

Mingyu doesn’t even notice his friend beginning to play with your tits, he’s much too distracted by licking your core through your panties. You’d bet that if you took your blind fold off right now, you’d find his own eyes closed, his mind completely consumed by the act of being close to your pussy without really being able to get at it.

“Does he feel good?” Wonwoo asks.

“Uh huh,” you nod, tightening your grip in Mingyu’s hair so you can grind harder against his mouth.

“He’s already nearly breaking,” Wonwoo muses, “how far along are you?”

“I-” You swallow thickly. “I don’t know.”

“I want you to enjoy the teasing, want you to be brought to the edge like this, and when you’re finally about to snap, I’ll let him pull your panties to the side. You can ride his face while you cum for us.”

Your muscles clench at his words, and you nod quickly. “Okay.”

“Where are your manners?” He pinches your nipple even more roughly, and you let out a delighted squeal.

“Okay, yes, thank you, thank you, Wonwoo,” you correct yourself.

“Good girl.” The pinching subsides, but you almost miss the pain. “You look good like this.”

“Thank you!” you blurt out, not wanting to fumble your manners so early just because he’s being sweet to you.

Wonwoo’s fingers leave your breast, and your focus shifts to Mingyu again. He’s begun rubbing his nose against your clit, and you’d bet that Wonwoo’s words about getting you to the edge have inspired the motion.

Mingyu knows that clit stimulus will get you there faster than the teasing of his tongue along your panties, and you give yourself to the pleasure he’s providing.

Wet lips wrap around your nipple and your body jolts. One your hands immediately flies to the back of Wonwoo’s head, threading through his soft curls while he sucks on you. He releases a groan of satisfaction. You respond with a whimper of your own, pushing your chest up toward his mouth.

Nothing has ever felt like this.

Having two sexy men worship you is making your body short circuit faster than it ever has before.

You can feel your orgasm rising in your stomach, and before you even know it, you’re letting out a gasp. “Fuck, I’m close- shit, thank you, fuck, I’m gonna-”

You can’t even finish your sentence, Mingyu tugs your panties to the side, pushing two digits into your hole while his lips find your clit, sucking the sensitive bud while he groans like a starved man.

Wonwoo’s teeth simultaneously graze your nipple, and the combination of stimuli is enough to throw you over the edge.

Your pussy clamps down on Mingyu’s fingers, waves of pleasure exploding out from your core. The loudest moan you’ve ever released sings out of you, and your grip tightens in both of their curls. You’re used to having one anchor, Mingyu, who you hold onto to keep you from floating too high to cloud nine, but now, even with two anchors, you still find yourself drifting away into a state of bliss you’ve never even dreamed of.

Wonwoo’s free hand finds your neglected breast, and a pinch at your nipple has even more electric energy surging through you, your back arching at how intense this all is.

Mingyu hasn’t stopped between your thighs, his fingers are unrelenting inside of your throbbing core, his tongue flicking your clit better than any vibrator or toy ever has.

You cum, and cum, and cum-

Mingyu releases a sinful groan, and you can feel something splash your inner thighs. Mingyu pulls away from your clit, licking up the liquid-

Wonwoo’s mouth leaves your breasts, and you can feel his gaze slipping between your legs.

“Fuck, I didn’t know you could squirt, baby,” he muses, massaging your breast in a way that almost feels loving.

“I didn’t-” you struggle to speak amidst your moans, “I can’t-

“No one’s ever made you squirt before?” Wonwoo finishes your sentence for you.

“No, sir, I mean- yes, sir-”

You hear Wonwoo let out a chuckle, and he pinches your nipple, making you cry out even more. “Sir, huh? Looks like our good girl has really learned her manners, Gyu.”

You’re not sure where the title had come from, but calling Wonwoo ‘sir’ had just felt right, it still feels right, as you writhe against his bed sheets.

“Okay, I think that’s enough,” Wonwoo sighs. Fingers brush by your cheek, and the sudden touch makes you flinch. “She’s crying, Gyu.”

Mingyu groans deeply, his fingers coming to a stop in your pussy. When he removes them, and both men pull away, you can finally take a deep breath after the intensity of your orgasm. Your entire body shudders as you try to steady yourself after what they’ve just given you.

In the periphery, you can hear a wet sucking sound, and you’d bet your life that Mingyu is licking his fingers clean.

“Squirting all over him like that got your boyfriend hard as fuck, baby, I think I’ll be nice and let him fuck you now.”

God, there’s so much you want to think about with that sentence- specifically the way Wonwoo just referred to Mingyu as your boyfriend, a term that you haven’t yet used- but you’re also so needy for Mingyu’s cock now that you can’t sit and ponder the relationship development. 

“Yes, please, Mingyu, fuck, need your cock-” you whine, reaching down to tug your panties off-

Another set of hands grabs the fabric, and before you can fumble to get your underwear down your legs, Mingyu simply tears them in two to get at you.

His cockhead is rubbing against your soaked folds a moment later, and you let out a whimper of desperation. 

“Fuck, Angel, you’re doing so good for us,” Mingyu groans, slipping the head into you.

“Gyu-” you whimper, grabbing at the bed sheets, your eyes rolling into the back of your head from the stretch of his girthy tip.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he tells you, one hand flattening on your abdomen to keep you still. “I could slide all the way in like this-”

“Do it,” Wonwoo says simply. “Bet she’d fucking love that.”

“I would,” you agree, whimpering at the idea of him filling you up with one powerful thrust. “Please, split me open-”

The words no sooner leave your mouth than Mingyu is doing just as you’d asked. In one motion, he sinks the entirety of his cock into your wet, ready hole. 

His hips hit flush to your own, and you release something between a cry and a scream. Your inner walls struggle desperately to accommodate the large intrusion that your body is still not used to even after fucking Mingyu countless times.

Before Mingyu, ‘Like a Virgin’ had just been a Madonna song, now, it’s something you understand completely.

Mingyu’s mouth finds your neck as he leans his entire, large, muscled body over your own. His lips are hot as they suckle on your sweet spot, and you grab at his strong shoulders, wrapping your legs around his hips.

He starts slow with his motions, only pulling out slightly. With each small rut, his cock sinks so deep that it hits a spot that makes you go mind numb.

You’re a gasping, wriggling mess for Mingyu, and from the sounds leaving his own lips, you know he loves it.

His pace starts to increase. You can feel your pussy tingling with each thrust, the vein along the underside of his cock stimulating your walls perfectly.

Mingyu draws your lips to his own, and you find yourself in a desperate clash of tongues. 

“How cute,” Wonwoo’s voice draws you back to reality. “For the record, baby, I’ve never seen Mingyu this into someone.”

God, why is he being so nice to you?

Why does the thought that you make Mingyu come undone unlike anyone else have your pussy throbbing?

Your hand moves before your mind even registers what you’re doing. It flails out toward Wonwoo’s voice, and you’re pretty sure you make contact with his thigh.

“What are you doing?” Wonwoo asks, tone shifting.

You break the kiss with Mingyu, and his lips find your throat while you address his friend. “Wanna touch.”

Wonwoo is silent, and moments feel like minutes. Then, you hear a belt buckle, and a zipper being pulled down.

“You just wanna touch?” Wonwoo prompts. 

Before you can even respond, Mingyu is nipping at your ear. He’s breathing heavily, fucking you faster. “Do you wanna suck him off, Angel? I won’t be mad if you do.”

This is a threesome, it wouldn’t be fair if Wonwoo didn’t get a bit of you too…

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?” Wonwoo prompts.

“Yes, I wanna suck you off,” you clarify, doing your best to make your voice sound confident.

Mingyu groans, and then he pulls off of you. You whine at the loss of him, but he flips you onto all fours, pulling your ass into the air so he can push his cock into you again. You do your best to steady yourself on your hands, and the bed dips in front of you, signaling Wonwoo’s arrival.

“Here,” Wonwoo’s voice is soft, as soft as his touch when he pulls the blindfold off of you. “Wanna see that pretty face when you choke around my cock.”

In the red light from the tiled wall mount, Wonwoo looks insane. Yeah, a little insane in the crazy way, but insanely sexy too.

He’s taken his shirt off, and you’re shocked to find washboard abs that make you drool immediately. His curls are all flouncy and illuminated by the red, like a halo, or even devil horns. His jeans are undone, but he doesn’t have his cock out yet, which you kind of appreciate.

Although you can see his length straining against the black denim, he didn’t immediately stick his dick down your throat, he’s giving you time to adjust to the new position.

You blink up at him, and Wonwoo smiles, cupping your cheek. “You’re doing so good, baby.”

“So good,” Mingyu echoes, digging his fingers into your hips as he begins to fuck you like a mad man.

“Sir,” you breathe.

“Yes, baby?”

“Can I suck you off now?”

Wonwoo’s grin widens. “Go for it.”

You realize he’s not going to help you take his cock out, not yet at least. It’s difficult to hold yourself up with one hand while Mingyu fucks you, your free one reaching for his jeans. You hook your fingers in the fabric, trying to tug them down.

Part of you thinks Wonwoo likes watching you struggle. He’s said he’d be nice, wouldn’t degrade you, and he’s not, but this feels like it’s bordering on humiliation. 

Here you are, getting fucked stupid, holding yourself up on one shaky hand while the other tugs desperately at his pants, trying to free his cock so you can have it sink down your throat-

“You’re cute,” Wonwoo muses, finally giving in.

He pushes his pants down, his cock springing up against his abdomen.

He’s long. Maybe not as long as Mingyu, and not as thick either, but that just means you might actually be able to take him fully into your mouth, unlike your boyfriend’s monster cock that you can’t even fully suck halfway.

Even though Wonwoo isn’t as big as Mingyu, he’s confident in himself, and that makes things all the more sexy.

He grabs the base of his length, holding the tip out for you.

Meeting his eyes, you open your mouth, sticking out your tongue.

Wonwoo taps himself along the wet muscle, then he teases the tip just past your lips- you go to wrap your mouth around him, only for him to pull back with a laugh. “Eager, are you?”

You nod, “uh huh.”

He doesn’t even tut at you for your lack of manners, after all, you’re still holding your mouth open for him, unwilling to close it if even for a few moments to say a ‘yes, sir.’

“I guess I can give it to you,” Wonwoo sighs. Although he’s trying to sound unbothered, you can tell from his leaky red tip that he’s just as turned on by this as you are. You can see through Wonwoo now, and you wonder how that’s going to impact your opinion of him.

This man who likes to seem hard and domineering, who likes to appear nonchalant- you wonder what kind of thoughts are swimming in that pretty head of is.

Wonwoo slips his cock into your mouth, and you immediately begin to suck it, twirling your tongue along the tip. He pushes in another inch, testing your abilities. His eyes are fixed on yours, and you stare up at him, wanting to please.

Mingyu fucks you harder, prompting you forward onto Wonwoo’s cock. You take more and more of him, doing your best to relax and focus on the pleasure Mingyu is giving you, rather than the uncomfortable feeling of a heavy dick on your tongue.

You enjoy giving oral, but you’ve always found it easier to have some other stimulus to anchor yourself- Mingyu’s cock splitting you open is just the right amount of distraction. When Wonwoo hits the back of your throat, you hardly choke, too enraptured by Mingyu behind you to carefully about your gag reflex.

“Fuck, that’s good,” Wonwoo tells you, having watched for your limits and reactions.

He begins to thrust now, matching Mingyu’s motions. It’s a push pull, and you kind of love being used like this, having two cock filling you up. They’re almost synchronized, and it turns you on that they’ve done this before, that they’re familiar with each other.

You couldn’t imagine a better pair to lose your threesome virginity to.

Wonwoo’s hand grabs your hair, and you watch as he throws his head bad, letting out a groan.

Fuck, he’s so sexy- they both are. Mingyu’s grip on your hips is even tighter, and you know what that means.

“I’m close,” your boyfriend announces.

“Well I just started,” Wonwoo retorts. “Hold it.”

You’re shocked that Mingyu doesn’t even fight back, his thrusts simply slow down a notch. Wonwoo, meanwhile, speeds up, and you do your best to hollow your cheeks around his cock, sucking on him like you’ve never sucked on anyone before.

“You’re good with your mouth, baby,” Wonwoo praises you.

“She’s so good,” Mingyu agrees, reaching a hand around your body so he can rub your clit.

You jolt at the contact, pussy clenching desperately around Mingyu’s cock.

“Fuck, Woo, we’re both close-” Mingyu groans, resting his forehead against your shoulder, his breath hot across your skin.  

“I guess I can make this quick,” Wonwoo grunts, hips shuddering.

Mingyu draws fluid, lazy circles on your clit, speckling your shoulders with kisses while he ruts slowly into your core. You suck on Wonwoo diligently, like it’s your job- after all, it is your job to make him cum in order for you and Mingyu to get there too.

The pressure in your abdomen is getting tighter and tighter, you’re not sure how much longer you can hold off, especially with the sounds Mingyu’s making-

“You two are so needy,” Wonwoo muses, letting out a small chuckle. “Fuck.” 

“You gotta let her cum,” Mingyu practically begs. “She’s squeezing me like a fucking vice, dude- this is torture.”

Wonwoo’s hips jolt at Mingyu’s words, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. You feel your muscles constrict around both of them, and they both groan in response.

“You’re too good at this,” Wonwoo tells you. “When I cum, you both get to cum.”

It’s not an outward admittance that he’s close, but you can tell he is. His stomach muscles are clenching with effort as he uses your face, and the small groans of pleasure leaving him are higher in number now.

He fucks your face even faster, and Mingyu takes this as a cue to begin fucking you properly again. “Can you rub your clit, Angel?” he asks. “I need to grab your hips.”

You moan a sound of affirmation around Wonwoo, holding yourself up on one wobbly hand while the other slips between your legs.

“That’s it,” Mingyu groans, straightening behind you and taking hold of your hips with both hands. His pace matches Wonwoo’s now, and you can feel your orgasm so close-

You can almost taste it.

In fact, you can taste Wonwoo’s, a strangled gasp escaping him as he cums down your throat suddenly.

“Our turn, Angel,” Mingyu moans, pace quickening to a speed that would almost be painful if it wasn’t so pleasurable. Your fingers are rough on your own clit, and you do your best to swallow every drop of Wonwoo’s spend.

When he pulls out of your mouth, you breathe in a strangled gasp- only for moans of pleasure to escape you uncensored.

“Fuck, that’s it, Angel, almost there, almost there-” Mingyu groans. “Fuck, cum for me, cum for us- fuck, cum on my cock-”

His words throw you over the edge. You lean forward, resting your cheek against Wonwoo’s thigh while your orgasm overtakes you. Waves of pleasure surge through your body, making you shake- Mingyu’s hands hold your hips steady, keeping you where he wants you while he fucks you through your high, coating your insides with his thick cum.

You’re both moaning messes, completely given over to the ecstasy that you find in each other.

Your hand falls from between your legs, and soon, Mingyu’s motions stop. He keeps himself buried inside of you, trying to catch his breath.

“I’ll get some tissue,” Wonwoo says. He pulls away from you, and you collapse face first onto the bed, shuddering from the aftershocks of your high.

Mingyu’s hands begin to stoke your body, a silent assurance that you did well for them.

Wonwoo comes back with tissues, and Mingyu pulls out. You bring the kleenex to your dripping hole, careful not to get any cum onto Wonwoo’s bed-

Which is when you remember you squirted all over the comforter already.

You lay on your back, giggling to yourself.

“What’s so funny?” Wonwoo asks. Fingers go to pinch your nipple and you flinch, rolling away from him.

“I got squirt all over your bed,” you tell him.

“Naughty girl,” he says, but there’s an inkling of pride in his tone.

“It’s okay,” Mingyu says, reaching to pull you off the bed. “I’m going to go clean her up, you can throw your stuff in the laundry, and we can stay in my room tonight.”

You’re not sure why the idea of sleeping next to Wonwoo feels more intimate than the fact that he just came down your throat, but ten minutes later, when you’re snuggling between the two men, you find yourself almost unsure of how to act.

Mingyu’s already passed out, soft snores filling the room, and it’s Wonwoo who notices your unease as you shift under the sheets.

“Relax,” he tells you, his hands drawing you to his chest. “You’re safe with us.”

For some reason, his words actually calm you down, and after a few more deep breaths, you pass out on the chest of the man you’d ghosted over half a year ago.

Epilogue

It’s been two months since you and Mingyu invited Wonwoo into your bed. Two months of great sex, but it’s even deeper than that.

Mingyu is outwardly your boyfriend, and he loves showing his claim over you every chance he gets, but Wonwoo is still on the fence about where he fits in your relationship. 

You’re at the bar where Wonwoo works, it’s a place you’ve been becoming more of a regular at. Mingyu is out with Cheol, but he’ll be meeting you shortly. Right now, all there is to do is wait and try not to flirt with Wonwoo too hard while he mixes drinks. 

Wonwoo is chatting with another regular, an old guy who keeps looking over at you. Finally, the man asks, “How do you two know each other?”

You and Wonwoo exchange a look. You wait for him to define the relationship, after all, out of everyone in your odd little throuple, Wonwoo’s the one who likes to go slowest when it comes to relationship milestones.

After a moment of consideration, Wonwoo responds, “She’s a friend. Dating my roommate.”

“Ah, okay,” the man nods.

It hurts for Wonwoo to not claim you the way you wish he would, but at the same time, you understand his hesitancy. 

When you’d first started fucking Wonwoo, you’d thought he was a doberman to Mingyu’s golden retriever, but now, you think he’s more of a black cat. If you move too fast or too sudden, you’re afraid of scaring him off, and that’s the last thing you’d want to do.

With a sigh, you lift your drink to your lips. You suppose having one boyfriend who claims you with all of his heart makes up for having another who is still unsure about what to call you.

But it doesn’t mean things hurt any less. 

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! I'm happy I was able to get this fic out in time for spring :) when I tell you this shit was five months in the making-

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🔮 preview.  Mingyu gives you all the love you’ve ever dreamed of from your romance novels. And Wonwoo gives you all the kinky sex you’ve fantasized about from the erotica you read. It’s the best of both worlds, and as Wonwoo sinks his cock into your wet pussy, you begin to suck on Mingyu.

cw/ tw. Exhibitionism, unprotected sex, sex in an alley, sex over a Harley motorcycle, eiffle tower/ spit roasting, quickie, blow job, deep throating, dirty talk, praise, cum/filling kink, inklings of humiliation, Wonwoo is a little rough,  etc…   I petnames. (hers) baby.  

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.7k I teaser wc. 220

🌙 staring. Wonwoo & Mingyu x afab!reader

bonus

“I’m just gonna head outside with Cheol for a quick vape break,” Mingyu tells you, giving you a kiss on the cheek before he exits the bar with his buddy.

You turn to Wonwoo, who is busy mixing some elaborate drink for a group of cougars a few seats down. It’s a decent night here at his workplace, it’s summer now, so most evenings are good for him.

“Is this seat taken?” You turn to see the regular from a few months ago standing there, and you’re quick to offer him the chair, after all, you and Mingyu will be leaving soon anyways. “Don’t I know you from somewhere?” the man asks.

You exchange a look with Wonwoo. “Yeah, I uh… I met you a few months ago,” you try to explain, pointing at your bartender. “I’m this guy’s friend.”

“Right, dating his roommate, now I remember,” the man nods.

Wonwoo has stopped what he’s doing, and he’s staring at you.

There’s a hint of danger in his eyes, and you’re not quite sure why. Then he sets down his drink, coming around the bar, and grabbing your arm. “Come outside,” he instructs. 

“What? Now?” you ask in shock, looking around at the bartop that's full of people who need drinks. “You’re working!”

“I don’t care. Come.”

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[leighsartworks216]

There Is No Love Purer Than Mine

Sylus x gn!Reader

Based on a video I can't find where a girl on one of those dating tv shows says "I love you" to a guy, and he asks her to repeat it again and again as his voice cracks. It's always stuck with me, and now I'm pulling it out of cold storage

Warnings: kissing, crying, declarations of love, mild hurt/comfort

Word Count: 625

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

The words stole the air from your lungs. You stare at Sylus, wide-eyed and trying to remember how to breathe, while he has the audacity to lounge nonchalantly against the sofa and watch.

He smirks at your reaction. His arms are stretched along the back of the couch. His sweater steals the intimidation from his face and invites you to curl into his side. You had been, moments ago, but then he said… He said…

“What’s the matter, kitten?” he asks. It’s playful, but his arm falls to brush a hand against your cheek, betraying the real concern behind the bravado.

You swallow. Your voice comes out as a whisper, still breathless and shaky. “Say it again.”

His smirk softens into a smile. He brushes some hair behind your ear. “I love you.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. “Again.”

This time, he sits forward. His other arm reaches out to hold your hand where it sits in your lap. He says it reverently. “I love you.”

It feels like your body has been dunked in a cold bath. Chills run up your arms. Your chest feels tight. He pulls your blanket tighter around you. Tears burn at the corners of your eyes. “Again…”

“I love you.” He leans forward until your foreheads touch. “I love you.” He cups your cheek and brushes away a tear with his thumb. His eyes never leave yours. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

You close your eyes and lean into his touch - pressing your forehead insistently against his, tilting your face into his hand, shifting closer on the couch. Tears stick to your eyelashes before they fall down your cheeks. He brushes them away diligently. You squeeze his hand tightly.

“Is this okay?” he asks, voice low and gentle.

You nod immediately. His long fingers curl around your jaw, fingertips in your hair, holding you to him.

“I love you.”

It’s so soft you almost don’t feel it. The brush of his lips over yours. If you hadn’t feel his breath warming them, you wouldn’t have realized at all. You crack your eyes open to watch when you tilt your chin up, seeking a full, proper kiss.

He answers your demand. Stuttered and solid breaths merge, gasping every time your lips separate, preparing for the next moment they connect. Over and over. The salt of the popcorn clings to his lips, complimenting the salt of your tears. His tongue carries the distinct fruitiness of his wine as it seeks yours out. Tempered moans and sighs pass between each other.

When he pulls away, you strain your neck forward for more, but he presses his thumb to your lips instead. You blink your eyes open at him, glistening and red from crying.

For a second, you’re scared. Scared he’ll take it back. Scared he’ll toss you aside, laugh in your face, leave you behind. Scared he’ll leave a scar on your heart that will never fully mend.

But he doesn’t.

He kisses the corner of your mouth. Your cheek. Under your eye. Over your closed eyelid. When he pulls back, he doesn’t stray far.

“Come here, my beloved,” he coos as he pulls you into his side. You wrap your arms around his torso, bury your wet face into his sweater. He wraps both arms around you, too, a silent promise not to let go.

The movie is just background noise now. You have no idea what’s happening in the story and you can’t give a damn. When you rest your chin against him to look at his face, he’s not watching either.

“I love you…” you whisper, tentative. Testing the shark-infested waters and trusting he’ll save you.

And he does.

“I love you, too, kitten.”

---

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41

[cringe--is--dead]

Windbreaker Boys + The Pet You Two Adopt

incl. Umemiya, Tsubakino, Kaji, Sakura, Suo, & Nirei

Umemiya Hajime: Dog

No surprise: you two are adopting a dog together. I'm talking: a Japanese spitz. They're smart, loyal, playful, affectionate, and white, fluffy things.

Both Umemiya and your newest family addition are the cuddliest things ever. you wake up with Umemiya wrapped around you and your fluffy baby curled up against your chest-- you're literally never moving from the bed.

Both follow behind you like shadows. You're going to the kitchen? They're coming too! Bathroom? They'll wait outside for you (not patiently). You're going outside? Family walk! You don't truly get alone time anymore.

Umemiya would have trained any pet to protect you, regardless of size or temperament. Which works, cause despite this breed's size, they are so loyal they're natural guard dogs. You have scary dog privilege with your boyfriend, and (attempted) scary dog privilege with your son.

They make the same facial expressions sometimes. You're in a bad mood, storming around the apartment? Both are silently watching you, eyes wide as they wait for a lull to come to you. They're confused? Matching little head tilts. You stand no chance against their duo puppy eyes.

During holidays, he's buying matching couples and dog sweaters to take pictures. He sends them to all his aunts and uncles around town, as well as to his brothers and Kotoha. (she pins the pictures on her fridge, but no one is allowed to ask her about them)

Having a furry child with this man makes you start thinking about what it would be like seeing him as an actual father... O.o

Tasuku Tsubakino: Bunny

First: y'all can't adopt a white rabbit because Tsubaki will be placing little kisses on its head, and the lipstick will stain.

Anyways, y'all would get a little lionhead rabbit, they rarely get to even a foot long and weigh maybe up to three pounds? Y'all have a little carrying companion for a while!

These types of bunnies can be timid when you first meet them, but once you gain their trust, they're playful, friendly, and very social little creatures. No offense to you, but I have a feeling Tsubaki is the one gaining her trust first.

Imagine the most spoiled, pampered pet you'd ever seen. Now triple that. That's the life your bunny lives with the two of you as parents. A bed in every room. Snacks and treats at her leisure. There are puzzles and toys, stairs so she can climb onto things (like your sofa), it's basically her apartment, you two just live there.

Tsubaki would get little accessories for her, and is the only one who can put them on her. Little bows on her fur near her ears, a little dress for Easter pictures, a harness and leash to take her outside on nice days.

Imagine coming home from work or school or shopping and Tsubaki is curled up on the couch, sleeping face mask on while taking a nap in the sun, the little fluff ball curled up on his chest, also fast asleep. New lock screen!

Tsubaki has a folder dedicated to pictures of you and the bunny, too, separate from the folders dedicated to just you and just the bunny. There are pictures of you cuddling her, of you brushing her fur, napping with her, just being in the same vicinity as her. Safe to say Tsubaki is (healthily) obsessed with his little family.

Kaji Ren: Betta Fish

He would be against having a pet at first; he would worry about hurting it on accident, worried it would just hate him, worried neither of you would be home enough, be able to afford all the things it needed (but he would also NOT tell you these things, you have to thank Hiragi for this information)

You do your research and drag him to a pet shop and look at the wall of fish. Nothing catches his eye until he sees the betta fish, you know the thing I mean, how they're all in little cups by themselves. That sight would definitely catch his attention. Some worker would come over, talking about the fish, and he'd be half listening.

He'd hear them talk about how people adopt these poor guys and leave them in crappy tanks, how their fins would tear if they weren't properly cared for, how they're smart fish and can even recognize their owners and he is just sold.

You two leave with a beautiful betta fish, a 6.5-gallon tank, and all the accessories needed, as well as food and even treats. Kaji would take it as a personal mission to have the best cared-for betta fish. He sets it up by himself, insisting on it, headphones on as he works.

Once the setup and initial stuff are taken care of, Kaji finds himself near the tank more often than not when he's home. It's near one end of the couch, so whenever you two are having a relaxing night in, you're always curled up near it.

Sometimes you'll find him silently watching him, eyes tracing his path as he swims around, sometimes he'll swim to the glass, and the two will just stare at each other. Silent communication. You've sent many videos and pictures to Enomoto and Kusumi.

You set the fish up on a well-planned feeding schedule, and Kaji just comes in with little fish treats behind your back. He wants the fish to be happy, even if it means pushing your food schedule a little bit.

It's a pet that you both love, but it's good for him in a way. He won't say it, nor can he explain why, but just watching him swim or float about is calming. Even better if you're curled up next to him. In those moments Kaji feels like any violence he has in his past is nothing more than a bad dream he's started to forget.

Suo Hayato: Cat

You have to stop him from adopting a tuxedo cat and naming it “Sakura”. Even if the idea was tempting.

You end up adopting a maine coon, and it’s the most pampered pet you’ve ever seen. Maine coons are great family cats; they’re friendly and gentle, sociable and playful.

Suo somehow manages to never once get scratched by this cat. Not on purpose, not on accident. Even when he’s riling the cat up or just playing with him, the cat has never once left a mark on Suo. He says he’s a cat whisperer, “Afterall— I managed to befriend Sakura-kun!”

Doesn’t matter how big your cat gets, Suo has trained him to believe he is and always will be a lap cat. You swear he also trained the cat to be the most annoying, cutest menace ever.

Doing work on your laptop? He’s laying on your keyboard, purring up a storm, eyes closed and content. You finally move him off? Suo’s hugging you from behind, somehow pulling you away to the couch to watch something and cuddle.

Your cat and him look so smug about it you know the planned it.

We’ve seen how Suo sleeps, so I can very much imagine waking up, turning and seeing the cat laid out on his chest, both fast asleep. The bigger your cat gets the more you wonder how he hasn’t suffocated your boyfriend.

He has pictures of your cat that look professionally taken, like the lighting and angles are absolutely insane. He has similar ones of you too, but he more often shows you the pictures of you that are… unflattering.

He enjoys calling your cat “your son” when you two are out and anyone asks how you two are doing. The older aunts and uncles gush over how cute your baby must be, and by this point you’re too embarrassed to correct them or Suo, whose just smiling.

Akihiko Nirei: Ferret

At first I was going to give Nirei a hamster, but then I saw a tiktok of ferrets when they get excited and knew he’d adopt one.

He’s so excited when you bring the ferret home, vibrating the whole way. You can literally see stars in his eyes.

He does so much research you’re not surprised when you get shipment after shipment of things. Long sweaters, plastic balls, noodles, boxes, food, treats, etc.

The ferret follows him around, trotting happily behind him. Once Nirei trips and nearly steps on him, and he decides to start carrying him on his shoulders all day.

The ferret loves to burrow into Nirei’s curls, and you always have to be the one to detangle his hair at night. He always says he’ll stop it, but he never does.

He starts buying shirts with pockets on his chest, large enough that your ferret can rest in them. It’s adorable to be talking to Nirei and then the little face pops up from his pocket. Scares the crap out of Sakura the first time it happens. And every time after that.

You’ve gotten used to the ferret trying to climb your pants whenever he sees you— both Nirei and the ferret get so excited when you come home. With Nirei’s thousand watt smile and the ferrets excited wiggles, how can you not look forward to going home every day?

You buy little glasses for the ferret that match Nirei’s. They last only but so long, but it was your favorite purchase for him ever.

Sakura Haruka: Hamster

First! And! Foremost! Don't let this boy read any posts about how people's hamsters have died. He will lose his sanity.

He's already so terrified cause of how tiny the hamster is, terrified someone will step on it or sneeze while holding it and it'll fly out of your hands, so any horror stories revolving around hamsters' deaths can not be seen.

Sometimes you find him just crouching down near his enclosure, watching him move, watching him eat and drink. You have to approach the scene slowly, or your boyfriend will run away and flee. There was once where the hamster was eating and you saw Sakura mimic the way his cheeks were puffed out— it’s a memory you hold close to your heart.

Sakura holds the hamster so gingerly every time he holds it. Palms cupping the little thing, eyes wide, breath is being held, hands trembling. He doesn’t blink, too scared if he looks away for even a second the hamster will fall or disappear.

As he gets more comfortable with the tiny pet, he’s so soft around it. We all know Sakura’s soft inside, but you get to see it in person. Whenever he runs up to the sides of his enclosure when Sakura’s there, he bends down and so gently scratches the hamster’s head. You’re sure if hamsters could purr, yours would be.

Once when Sakura is on the couch, watching something he lets the hamster sit on his shoulder. He burrows into his shirt and sleeps, and you’ve never seen Sakura sit so still for so long.

You don’t have to fear a horror death story for this little guy, Sakura is so paranoid and anxious about those he loves getting hurt your hamster lives for so long you start to think it’s immortal.

A/N: some are longer than others, my brain kept sparking out.

[wandasdollie]

  ꒰  𑄽୧ ꒱ 𓈒  ⠀⠀  ⠀⠀  ⠀⠀ensommeillé. ⠀⠀  ⠀⠀  ⠀⠀ ⠀𝜗𝜚  ⠀⠀  ⠀⠀  ⠀⠀  ⠀⠀18+! men and minors dni.

 .   ̣̣̣︶ ྀ pairing ˚ ۪ ݁ wanda x bunnyhybrid!reader

꒰  tags ꒱ 𓈒  mommy!wanda ,  smut w/o much plot , somnophilia , cunnilingus (r!recieving) , squirting , aftercare.

 ꔫ  ࣪ ˖ a / n ⑅♡ ྀ˖ this is based off of two requests i recieved, so thank you very very much for sending them in!! i luv seeing your thoughts, i hope i did them justice <33 pls send more!!   ໒ ྀི>֯ . <ྀི֯ ̥ ︣ა

 ⁺ ⑅  ꫂ ၴႅၴ tag list ֯݁ต  @emiliaisdead , @mommywandas ( pls comment if you'd like to be added~! )

When you finally return home after what you believe to be the world’s longest day of work in history, the pout settled on your lips is unrelenting. You might be a little overdramatic, sure it’s only about four in the afternoon, but you haven’t caught a break all day! You’ve been running around for hours, doing all of the little errands that your bosses have sent you on, waiting on guests and cleaning up messes like your life depended on it. You haven’t sat down once in hours!

So, completely needless to say, when you come home, it’s all you can do to not throw yourself on the floor and fall asleep right then and there.

But you don’t want to disappoint Wanda when she gets home, no no. You want to fix her dinner so that it will be ready by the time that she returns home, and your bedroom is awfully messy right now from the frantic way you’d gotten dressed this morning. But… there’s the sofa… and as you release your hair from its tight braids, long, fluffy ears falling heavy against your shoulders, you can feel all of your day’s stress melting through you, your feet much like cement cubes as you trudge through your home.

Mama would want you to rest, right? She always says that her favorite little bunny needs her beauty sleep, and you wouldn’t want to upset her by not doing just that! Of course, you want to look your prettiest for her always. And she does encourage your slumber as often as she can. She has quite the fascination with it, you’ve noticed. But, it’s best not to worry yourself too much over that right now. You need to make some dinner and clean up and—

You’re not sure just how you wound up on the sofa. Nor how your clothes landed in little pink piles on the floor; you’re usually much more careful to put them in the laundry basket. Yet, here you sit, in nothing but your panties and a sweater that you always keep in the living room in case you get too cold, laying beneath your favorite blanket. Your feet are perfectly tucked, and though you’ve turned on the tv to watch whatever program is on right now, you’ve brought one ear over your eyes to act like a sleeping mask, blocking out the image on the screen, along with the light bouncing off of the snow outside.

It takes you so few minutes to fall asleep, someone would think you’ve been awake all of 24 hours. But you certainly haven’t, even though you did get up quite early this morning. Your exhaustion hits you so completely that you just can’t help but pass out immediately. So, you drift off quite easily, though your worry over Wanda’s return is still toying at the back of your head.

𓊆 . . . 𓊇

You hadn’t heard her come through the door, though she did so quite loudly. Wanda herself had gone through her own exhaustive day of work, and as usual, she couldn’t possibly wait any longer to wrap her arms around her bunny and squeeze all of her stresses away. Though, when she returns home to less than your usual fanfare, she grows quite concerned right away.

That is, until she spots you on the sofa, curled up so tightly in your little ball of slumber that Wanda’s heart nearly explodes inside of her chest.

She is sure to be quiet as she sets down her purse and pulls off her overcoat, kicking off her heels to save you from their noise, yet leaving on the pencil skirt and tight, buttoned shirt that hug her curves so enticingly. The sight of you all cuddled up and sleepy, in addition to the setting sun outside, makes her yawn. She herself has grown impossibly tired, yet hides it well as she comes to your side at the sofa.

She gently pets the top of your head, sitting beside you on the small sliver of cushion that your body does not occupy. She simply cannot help herself, and lifts the blanket so that she may drink in the image of you sleeping there. The smirk that rises to her darkly stained lips is downright greedy as she notices just how little you wear, sweater bunched up high around your chest from your tossing and turning, showing off your tummy. Wanda licks her lips, hands moving from the crown of your head down to your side, gently rubbing into your warm flesh, her hands still freezing cold from the short walk from her car to the front door.

The feeling of sudden cold against your skin makes you flinch, but is not enough to fully wake you. You wiggle away from the feeling, but Wanda’s firm hand only follows you, softly tickling you in attempt at waking.

“Wake up, little one.” Her voice is soft, so coaxing and almost a bit lewd, as is her fashion when trying to wake you up in such a pleasant manor. Though, she doesn’t want to wake you entirely. She has always had a preference for your half-asleep manor, when all you can do is whine and fuss and, on days when you wake up from inappropriate dreams, moan and cum around her fingers until you ultimately fall back asleep like nothing had happened in the first place.

When you don’t wake up even after she gives your cottontail a little squeeze, her wandering hands eventually hook beneath your knees, lifting you until she holds your little form against her chest, walking you to the bedroom. There’s not much she can do with you while on the sofa, especially when her body is still so constricted by tight work clothes. But when she does make it to the bedroom, Wanda does not strip. She adores the power she holds over you when you lay naked below her, while she remains entirely dressed. There is simply something so enticing about her little bunny looking so obscene and nude while she maintains all of her decency.

As she lays you on the bed, Wanda delicately removes your sweater, and you unconsciously move to help her, arms lifting out of sheer habit— you have done just this far too many times before. The redhead cannot contain her low groan at the sight of you sleeping so soundly, so primed for her taking, so innocent while her thoughts are such the opposite.

Her fingers gently trail down your sides, fingernails lightly scratching into your flesh, sending tickles through you, bringing just the littlest bit of awareness into you. She whispers something in Sokovian, something along the lines of ‘such a pretty girl, such pretty tits.’ Had you been at all lucid, the words would have made you turn into putty in her hands, though, you’re already just that. Just a little plaything, just for her.

Wanda straddles you now, as best as her tight skirt will allow, and dips down so that she can place soft, fleeting kisses into your stomach. She massages into the flesh at your hips, then your breasts, her hands still incredibly cold against you, the little prickles of goosebumps forming on your arms right away. This, she feels guilty about. Though she enjoys having you all to herself, while you are so blissfully unaware, she does not like it when her little girl is at all uncomfortable, especially in the cold of the winter. Despite how carnal she may feel for you at this moment, her most important want for you is comfort. So, she decides she must begin to act quicker, so that her bunny is not left in this cold for too long.

The redhead’s fingers slip down your sides, index fingers hooking into your panties and sliding them off with ease. She once again releases one of those lust-fueled moans, licking her lips from just how downright delicious you look. Though you aren’t even conscious enough to be turned on, your pussy is already slick with arousal, simply begging for Wanda’s fingers, for her mouth, for any of her. Still, she will remain patient. Patient, despite how she is so very entranced by you. The soft, innocent look on your face is enough to tell her to be gentle.

“Dripping wet for me, and you don’t even know it. Silly girl,” she coos gently, lowering herself so that her kisses meander to the bottom of your tummy, right where it’s the most sensitive, right where she knows you’re sure to stir from the touch. And she’s right, even the tiniest bit of touch there makes you squirm below her, your hands bunching up in the sheets below you, your hips raising ever so slightly to meet her touch.

“Needy little thing…” She purrs, kisses trailing to meet her hands on your thighs, which she props up, spreads wide. Wanda presses a few little kisses to the insides of your thighs until her head comes between them, her kisses pressing to your cunt, lips becoming wet from the slick that she finds there.

Even the tiniest touch has you more awake now, little bunny hips beginning to rock up to meet her kisses, your clit throbbing, desperate for her touch, even though your silly little brain is not yet registering what is going on. You are simply seeking pleasure without even knowing it, body working without your nervous system working to tell it what to do.

“Mama…” You whine ever so softly, your voice hoarse from sleep and small enough that Wanda can barely hear you.

“Shh, zaya… it’s alright. Mama’s just going to help you sleep, hmm?” Wanda muses gently, her fingers lightly running through your folds, teasing you so that your back lifts from the bed, so that you’re basically dripping onto the sheets. She’d typically tell you to speak up, that you’re not being loud enough for mommy to hear your pretty moans, but she’s all too swept up in just how sweet you sound now, your vocabulary reduced only to her title.

Wanda hums softly, turning her head to press a few more sloppy kisses to your thighs as one of her fingers dips inside of you. She moans all too loudly as this happens, as she curves her finger up into you, all too pleased at just how tight you are for her. Wanda smiles into the flesh at your thigh, licking your soft skin and gently sucking on it to leave her favored dark patches there, the last of which she left still faintly staining your skin. As you’re definitely wet enough for her, she slides in a second finger with ease, and your hips begin to whine up and down against them, desperately seeking her pleasure.

“Mommy…” You try, your eyes slowly beginning to open but you’re still drowsy with sleepiness, brain so foggy from your long day that you can’t really fight awake just yet. Your body’s movements slow as Wanda begins to take over, pinning your hips down to the bed without too much force, the pumping of her fingers quickening their pace. She curls her fingers into your firm flesh, the sounds of her sliding so obscene, so pleasing to her own ears that she can’t help but moan in tandem with them, whispering gentle reminders of how sweet you are, how good you taste, how you’re mommy’s perfect girl.

And taste you she does, her tongue eagerly lapping up all of the wetness that spills from you. When her fingers move in such a speed that is entirely overwhelming, there comes a gush of liquid so intense that it wakes you up entirely, your hands whipping over your face as if to hide you from such embarrassment. Though, Wanda only seems to enjoy this mess that you’ve made, it only pushes her further into her dominant headspace. You’re just her messy little doll that can’t keep any control of herself, that needs to be cleaned up and tended to at any given moment. She loves it, wants more of it, pushes you even harder for it.

“’m sorry…” You whine out, your hands dropping to reveal your bright pink face, lower lip trapped between teeth to conceal your needy moans. Though it’s not much use, because the second that Wanda notices your attempt at maintaining any bit of modesty, her lips latch onto your clit, sending a streak of pleasure right up your spine, your back arching even more than it previously had. Her name flings from your lips a few times from this sudden uptick in sensation, filling your large bedroom with nothing but your whimpers and moans. Your fingers land in her perfectly curled hair, tugging on it gently as though she could possibly be any closer to you, despite the way her mouth is latched onto your cunt.

She would typically fuss at you for apologizing, that you should never feel sorry for something like this, that mommy likes you messy. But her mouth is so full of you now, so encumbered by your taste, that she cannot speak, does not want to.

Wanda’s goal is, unfortunately for you, always overstimulation. She loves to feel you throb below her, loves the way your pussy becomes bright pink and puffy and your pupils become blown out. She prefers her bunny over-fucked and out of breath, and this is just how she will get you ever time. Her fingers are simply merciless, even when she feels you suddenly tighten around her, feels the way your thighs begin to shake, your orgasm washing over you. She allows you to ride it out, yes, but does not cease when your back hits the bed, body convulsing ever so slightly. Even when your fingers fall limp in her hair, she does not give you a moment to recover. Though she does remove her fingers from your pussy, they are quickly replaced by her tongue, which greedily laps up every bit of liquid that spills from you. Wanda is impossibly thirsty for you— she always is— and such is incredibly evident from her diligence in licking up every single bit of you.

You whine her name as if you’re stuck on a loop, your body twitching with every bump of her nose to your overworked clit. It might seem like you are begging her for relief, for her to stop, you both know that could not possibly be further from what you want. You truly want her to fuck you again and again until you can’t walk, but your body is so very desperate for sleep. Your thighs are so sore already from the amount that you’ve walked today that they feel like pins and needles as they struggle to prop up around her head. Your tired little body is so exhausted, your brain becoming fuzzy all over again, your consciousness careening towards sleep once more. Though, Wanda will not allow this. She won’t let you sleep just yet, though her more caring instincts so want to allow you to doze off, you just taste so good on her tongue, your whines so precious to her ears that she wants to hear them as much as she can before she goes without them while you sleep for eight hours. She has to bank this memory deep within her mind, so that later, when you do fall asleep with your head on her chest and your arms wrapped around her waist, she will have something to remember while her hand slips down the front of her own pajamas.

It does not take long, with the older woman’s tongue dancing over your sensitive bundle of nerves, for you to cum for her once again. This time, you are much less dramatic with your trembling, instead you finally let your legs fall, and though it takes you a moment to recover, eventually your breathing settles.

Wanda cleans you up ever so gently, careful as to not further stimulate your delicate clit as she slides your panties on, then your favorite matching pajama set over top. She removes the duvet which you’ve made such a mess of, covering you instead with a clean blanket from the closet. She allows you to sleep for an hour or so, just until the sun has set outside— much earlier than she’d expected, and it makes her quite sleepy, too. But Wanda fights the urge to crawl up into bed with you, and instead makes you something to eat. She won’t let her angel wake up hungry in the middle of the night, that’s for certain. So, once she’s fixed you both a proper meal, she wakes you up ever so gently, fingers pushing back the hair that has stuck to your forehead with sweat, kissing your cheek to coax you awake.

You wake up a bit grumpy, begging her to let you sleep even more, but she refuses, tells you in the warmest of tones that you’ll ruin your sleep schedule, and that mommy doesn’t want to stay awake without her bunny keeping her company. You begrudgingly follow her to the kitchen, but as soon as you smell what she’s prepared, you perk right up.

“You are such a good girl for me, you know,” Wanda hums as she pulls you into her lap at the dinner table, lightly bouncing you on her knee, pressing a kiss to your cheek. Your ears perk up ever so slightly at the words, a blush raising to your nose as you play with the button of her shirt.

“Really?” You giggle in return. Your memory of the moment is truly inexistent, your head was so fuzzy and sleepy that you weren’t really lucid enough to remember any of it. But you have the wet spot in your panties to remind you of just how good it felt, so you’ll take her word for it.

You eat as Wanda feeds you, smiling to her as she does, and you each share stories of your days. She pouts when you recount your tale of utter fatigue, of how many tables you’d waited in just an hour, of how some man asked you to refill his soda ten times! Wanda laughs a bit as she cleans up the table in record time before sweeping you back to your shared bathroom. You whine a little as she finally undresses from her work clothes, watching with wide eyes as she wiggles her hips to remove the skintight skirt from her hips. You hate that you’d been asleep for the majority of the time she’d been wearing it and will without a doubt beg her to wear the same outfit again soon.

Once she is dressed in a pretty lace nightgown of her own, she slips into bed beside you, whispering gentle compliments and encouragements into the dark room, stroking the fur of your ear, and you are out like a light in a heartbeat.

[bernardsbendystraws]

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𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒕 𝒛𝒐𝒏𝒆

⚠︎  mdni, smut, alcohol abuse, parental neglect, overall mature themes, and more [ this is made for all parts ]

⤷ Get to reading, sluts. No copying. Ask if you’d like to use this as ‘inspiration.’ Fuck off and fuck me, lets get horny!!!

with love and big tits, Rose Toy

©bernardsbendystraws

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CHAPTER 7: THE MORE YOU KNOW

Matt’s POV

My scalp was sore from the amount of bows that had been clipped to my hair. But, I wasn’t complaining–not when I heard her giggling next to me. Her laugh made my brain go numb, I didn’t want to hold back my words out of fear around her like I did with everyone else. If anything–I muttered any thought that had a chance of making her smile. 

I liked it when people smiled at me. It felt rewarding. We hadn’t grown very big on YouTube, but our small fan base had all determined I was the ‘quiet’ one. I wasn’t. I had opinions, I just didn’t always know how to voice them. Not when my brain was screaming at me–telling me I sounded stupid. 

It was heartwarming to rewatch old videos. Memories that would live indefinitely. But, it was also heart-wrenching. Every single word or sentence I said was always being analyzed by thousands of people. It made my lips seal with uncertainty. 

Not around her, though. Not around her. 

She made me want to take risks. I would’ve never stayed in my teacher’s house to babysit her kid–too scared of somehow letting chaos pursue. She made me want to stay, she made me want to try new things. 

We had tucked-in little Hailey in her small bed awhile ago. She had read to the girl while I sat on the end of the bed, admiring her silky and expressive voice. She was careful with the pages of the kids book, seemingly scared to even leave a single fingerprint. 

Curled up beneath my arm, she leans into me on the sofa. My hands wrap around her, rubbing the sweater–my sweater on her arm. She looked perfect in my clothes. It made some territorial part of me relax, even though she wasn’t mine. She at least looked like it.

“Y/n?” I ask. I hear her hum against my chest, her fingers twiddling with the horse pendant hung around my neck. “How do you know Mrs. Evans?” I ask. Her fingers drop the horse pendant, picking it back up hesitantly. 

“Well,” she clears her throat. “She uh–she used to teach at my elementary school in the next town over. Her and…her and my mom used to be best friends.” She explains. 

Used to. Only her dad was in the house, not a single picture frame on the walls–something my mom was adamant on for making a ‘house’ a ‘home.’ 

My heart breaks for the girl as I feel her let out a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry.” I say. She shrugs her shoulders. “It was a long time ago, it’s okay.” She responds. Her tone is too even, emotion lacking in her voice. I squeeze her shoulder in, leaning my head on top of hers. 

“It’s not okay, that must’ve been so hard. I’m here if you need anything, you know that, right?” She looks up with a semi-smile. I let my eyebrows raise, pushing the question further. “Trust me, I know. I mean–you’re here right now, are you not?” She retorts. 

I squint my eyes at her. “Toućhe.” I replied. Her phone rings with a text. She pulls the screen up from her lap. She turns the screen towards me as I let my eyes adjust. 

[Era Evans: Almost home. You guys are good to leave whenever, thank you!] 

I pat on her shoulder as she stands up. I follow behind as she tip-toes to the door quietly. We both slip our shoes on. I grasp the keys tightly in my hand, preventing the metal from jingling. I open the door as she walks through the threshold. I follow, slowly closing the door with a soft thud. 

I turn around, grabbing her hand and pulling her to the car. “Why are you in such a rush!” I hear her say. I push her into the passenger seat, buckling her in as fast as humanly possible. I ran over to the driver’s side, putting the keys in the ignition. 

“Because,” the engine sounds as I press my foot onto the gas. “You owe me a date.” I remark. I make a quick glance over, seeing her smile from ear-to-ear. I fight the urge to reach out to her, instead putting the heat on full blast in the cold car. “Holy fuck, my hands are gonna freeze off.” I mutter. 

I hear her giggle as I turn down the street. “Here.” She says. She grabs my right hand from the wheel, pulling it. I feel her thighs clamped around my hand, warming it instantly. The butterflies in the pit of my stomach make me swallow thickly as I resist the urge to grab at her warm, clothed thigh. 

At least she won’t be able to see how hard I am from my puffer jacket. 

“Where are we going anyway? It’s almost ten.” She says. I shrug my shoulders, “Honestly, I didn’t think that far.” I admit. “Matt!” She teases. My name falling from her lips makes me bite my inner cheek harshly in an attempt to distract the blood from rushing downwards even more. 

I want her to be mine so bad. So bad, it hurts. I pull my hand out from her thighs. “Thank you, that really helped.” Yeah, really helped me get a fucking boner. I clench and unclench my hands on the steering wheel, debating where to take her. 

It’s freezing–there’s no way she’s gonna want ice cream. Nearly nothing is open. 

“I can see you overthinking, Matt. Anything is fine. There’s always more opportunities on our second date.” I hear her laughter stop at the end of her sentence. “--not that I’m saying we have to–” 

I place my hand on her knee, snapping my eyes to hers at the stop sign as an idea flickers into my head. “I want a second date, trust me.” I confess. I see a slight pink hue paint on her face. My lips curl into a smile. 

I pull into the parking lot, seeing it nearly barren besides cars parked underneath the streetlights. 

“Stay in the car while I run into the store real quick? I really want it to be a surprise. I’ll be so fast–I promise.” I quickly say. I look over, seeing her lips quiver as she slaps her hand over her mouth. Her muted laughs muffle through her hand before she clears her throat. 

“Mhm, yep. I’ll stay-” I start getting out of the car, leaving the keys in the ignition with the heat blasting from the AC. “Wait! Your keys!” She announces. I shake my head at her. “I’ll be quick. Stay warm!” I sing, shutting the door softly. 

I hope she loves this. 

_

Y/n’s POV

I stayed in the car until Matt came back. He placed a plastic bag in the backseat, breathless as he started driving. “You good there?” I tease. He nods his head, holding up a finger to give him a minute. I laugh at his heavy pants, the roads starting to look familiar. 

“I was thinking we could pop open the trunk, or we could do it in my bed–wait.” I screech, laugh hysterically as his face cringes. “---not like that, I swear! It’s just cold and we’re gonna need our hands-FUCK!” He slams his hands down with frustration. 

My gut clenched in pain as I felt tears cloud my vision. When’s the last time I cried from laughing so hard? I hear his laugh synchronize with my own. I wrap my hand around his arm, leaning my head onto his bicep. “Let’s go to yours so you're not freaking out about giving me hypothermia the entire time.” I retorted. 

 I feel his head nod against my own. “Yeah,” he turns down the street, his house coming into view. “--you’re right.” He lets out.  He parks the car on the street in front of his house. I hear a click and the sound of him unclicking my seatbelt as I sit up straighter. 

He gets out of the car as I attempt to do the same. Pushing and tugging on the handle, the door doesn’t budge. I see his face prop down at eye level through the window, giving me a disapproving look. He put the child lock on. My jaw drops at the realization as I sit back in my seat, waiting for him to open the door. 

I feel the cold wind rush in through the door as he opens it. His dry chuckle as he holds out an open hand. I slide my hand in his, standing up next to him. He guides us to this door, muffling his laugh as I drag my feet with embarrassment. 

He drops his hold on me, unlocking the door. “Ya know,” I say, watching him jiggle the metal in the lock. “--I can open my own door, I don’t need help.” I remark.  He twists the knob, opening the door wide. I walk in the house, sliding my shoes off by the row of others. He does the same, shrugging his coat off and hanging it on the rack. 

“Here.” He reaches out, helping pull the coat off my arms and hanging it on his own. I look over to the couch, seeing Nick and a brown-haired girl on the couch. They turn around, Nick waving at me. 

“This is Madi. Madi, this is Y/n. Otherwise known as your replacement.” I furrow my eyebrows at his explanation, looking back at Matt who shakes his head, covering his face with his hands. My eyes wander back to the couch, watching as Madi rolls her eyes. 

“Dude, we dated in freshman year for a week!” Her doe eyes wander back to me as she gives me an un-entertained look. “Trust me, you have nothing to worry about.” I nod at her statement, awkwardly shifting my weight between my feet. 

“That’s enough of whatever the fuck this is–bye!” Matt waves. He grabs my hand, the plastic bag crinkling in his other. “--sorry about that. Nick likes to tease us about it, even after nearly four years or however long it’s been.” He mumbles. 

Our feet patter on the floor, stopping in front of his door as he swings it open. He pushes me gently with his palm on the small of my back.  I let myself sit down on the edge of his bed, the cushy mattress sinking in from my weight. 

“Close your eyes for me.” He mentions. I let my vision go dark as he flips on the light. I hear his footsteps and ruffling of the bag before something is placed in my hands. A box. “Okay, okay. Look!” I open my eyes, looking down at the multi-colored box with confusion.

“What is it?” I ask. I hear Matt gasp, taking the box and flipping it to the other side. “Only the best thing in the world! It’s Legos!” He replies. The excitement radiates off of him, making my skin pulse with anticipation. 

“Oh!! I’ve always wanted these!” I peel the box back into my hands, looking closely at the blocks stacked into various small animals. It has frogs of all different colors. I squeal in excitement as I hand him back the box. “Open it! Open it!” I urge. He turns around, pulling a pair of scissors out from his desk and slicing off the tap, pulling the cardboard open. 

He walks over, dumping a pile of plastic filled bags in the center of his bed. I crawl up to the head of the bed, feeling his weight pull my body down to his as our thighs brush together. The jeans on my thighs rub on my skin, creasing into my stomach discomfitingly. “Oh, and…” He reaches down to the plastic store bag, pulling out flannel pajama pants. Blue and green pattern the material as he looks at the tags, handing me one. “--matching PJs!” 

The soft material against my hands makes my smile grow as I fling myself into my arms. “You didn’t have to! Thank you! This is all so sweet!” I bring my hand up, ruffling his hair as he scrunches his nose. I pull back, looking into his eyes as his hands grip onto my hips. His lips are slightly parted, his breath fans onto my lips as I start closing the distance.

I just wanna feel his lips on mine. 

I watch as his eyes flutter closed, his face becoming soft. My heart races in my chest as his hands squeeze my hips. Our lips brush in a soft kiss, a smacking noise sounding from the subtle movement. I lean back in as I feel him smile against me. 

His hand curls around the back of my neck, pulling me closer to him. Our lips tangle with passion, a flood of adrenal shooting through my body as my hips plead to move against him. I pull away breathlessly, watching his eyes slowly open to meet mine. “Lego time, motherfucker.” I say. 

He grins up at me. I go to move, but his hands lock on my hips in a desperate grip. I look up, seeing his head thrown back and his mouth ajar. “Fuck.” he hisses. The single word sends shots of electricity straight down to my core as I freeze. “--’m sorry, here.” He pulls me off of him, lifting my hips above before sliding me over. 

I sit next to him, watching as he adjusts with a pillow over his lap. “I’m surprised you didn’t ask me to help you.” I joke. He gives me a tight-lipped smile, shaking his head. “I want this night to be special–not like that.” he explains. 

My hands grip each other in my lap as I feel my breath stutter from my lips. “I’m serious–I don’t want that from you. Wait–well, I’m gonna shut up.” He blushes. I laugh at his sudden change. “I’ll change in the bathroom, you should get in your pjs with me!” I nod, watching him walk off with the flannel pants. 

I take off my pants, letting them fall to the floor and pulling on the soft material over my legs. My skin rubs gingerly against the fabric. I let out a sigh of relief as Matt knocked from the bathroom door. “Ya decent?” I let out a hum, watching as he walks out with the matching pants. 

He walks around, sitting on his side of the bed. His side.

I smile, catching the thought with admiration. A flutter of butterflies swarms my gut as I watch him pull the direction packet out of the box. 

He reaches out, handing me a manual. I open the packet, analyzing the directions. I hand him a bag, directing him as he shoves pieces into my hands. “Come on, it’s no fun just reading the directions.” he reasons. I squint my eyes at him, taking the pieces and placing them in the correct places, as shown. 

_

A calm had settled over us as we focused on building the miniature frogs. There were a handful of colors. Green, blue, yellow, and orange. All bright and vibrant. He played soft music on his phone in the background. I placed the final piece of my second frog. “Done!” I remark. 

Matt looks up with a smile, holding up his own. “Me too!” he says. I let the laugh escape my mouth, admiring his pure excitement. “Which colors do you want?” I look up at him with questioning eyes. “You’re taking two, pick which colors.” He directs. 

“Are you serious?” He nods. I look at the four frogs, then back up at him. “Which two do you want?” I ask. He shrugs. “Whichever ones you don’t.” I roll my eyes at his response, shaking my head with a soft laugh. 

“No, tell me–” He cuts me off. “If you don’t pick, you’re keeping all of 'em.” He says, a serious tone layered in his voice. I point to the green and blue. 

He happily places them in my hand as I cradle the small objects. “Thank you.” I say. He nods his head, clearing the bed of materials. “Thank you.” He says. I furrow my eyebrows at him, watching as he pulls the frogs from my hand, placing them on his nightstand. “For what?” I ask. 

He turns back around, his eyes gleaming down into mine. I feel his hands grip my own, his breath fanning ever-so-slightly across my face. “Doing this with me–just being here. I really appreciate you.” My eyes well up from his kind words, my lips forming into a pout. “Matt.” I breathe out. 

“Just–come here.” He holds out his arms. I let my body fold onto his, his arms swarming around me in a secure hold. A tear sneaks out the corner of my eye, falling into my hair. “That was the sweetest thing you could’ve said–oh my god, I’m trying so hard not to cry right now.” I laugh.

I pull myself up, propping my elbow on the bed. I feel him grab my wrist, stopping me from whipping the stray tears. He takes his own hand, swiping under my eyes. “Don’t. Don’t hold back around me, please.” I let the cry escape my lips as I nod. I fall back onto his chest, hugging my arms tightly around him as he does the same. 

His palm caresses the back of my head. My tears soak into his shirt as I let out small sniffles. It’s more comfortable than my bed, it’s more comfortable than his soft purple sweater. I feel my insecurities shrink, the volume of my anxiety quieting as his arms engulf me. 

To lose this feeling, to lose him would hurt in a way I had never experienced before. What would it be like to lose someone that I know I could love? 

“Matt?” I hear him hum from above me. “We better be going on that second date.” I laugh. His chest shakes from beneath me. “I was really hoping you’d say that.” He replies. 

He pulls me closer, his lips pressing against my scalp softly. I hum at the sensation, letting myself curl further into his embrace. I let my eyes close, feeling as he shifts underneath me. 

The sound of a bang makes my eyes shoot open. “Fuck.” Matt mutters, huffing with annoyance. I look up, seeing one of his shoes thrown towards the door. The bottom print of the shoe marks the wall with dirt, right below the light switch. 

I laugh, watching as he grabs his other shoe from the floor. He squints one eye while lining his aim. He lets the shoes go, the room becoming pitch black at the sound of a bang on the wall. “There, now come here.” He says, nuzzling his arms tighter around me. 

I let my body fall limp, his thumb drawing circles on my arm. 

_

Waking up, a thin layer of sweat covered me as I felt my body being pushed into the mattress. I blow the hair out of my face, looking down to see Matt directly on top of me. His head rests on my chest, soft snoring escaping his lips. 

The sunlight streaks through the blinds, his hair looking irresistibly soft. I let my hands reach up, tangling in his scalp as he lets out a groan. “Goodmorning.” He says. His voice made my stomach clench at the depth of his tone, rough and groggy. He hums in contentment.

“What the..?” He lifts his head up. His wide eyes meet my gaze. I watch his cheeks turn pink, pushing his head back down onto my breasts. 

“--’s fine, I don’t wanna get up yet.” I voice. He lays tense before leaning back onto me. My nails groom through his hair. He lets out a long sigh. “That feels so good.” He whispers. I smile, ruffling his hair playfully. 

“I bet those bows hurt, hm?” I tease. He looks up, nodding at me. “Yes–but, how could I say no?” He says. I laugh, nodding in agreement. “You looked cute with bows.” I compliment. He smiles up at me with innocent eyes. “Really?” He asks. 

I laugh at his question. “You look cute now, goof.” I replied. He nuzzles his head back onto my chest, humming in content. “We look cute–especially in our matching pajamas.” He mentions. I hum in agreement. 

“We’re hanging out the rest of the day, right?” He asks. I let the giggle push past my lips. “Matt! You’re gonna get sick of me!” I remark. “Nuh-uh. I could never. I think I could lay here forever.” He says softly. His hand slides up my waist, directly underneath my breast while his thumb soothes back and forth. 

“Chocolate chip pancakes?” He asks as he looks up at me. I quickly nod my head, immediately going to move. He pins me down with his body weight, flushed cheeks heavily apparent. I go to question him, but my mouth stops as he shakes his head. “--give me a minute.” He mutters. 

I realize he shifts, a hard bulge prodding at my leg as he readjusts. 

_

My stomach was full from pancakes. We had made enough for his entire family, setting them out on the counter for when the household members would wake up. His hand held mine as we sat side-by-side on the couch.

“What’s your dad like?” He asks. I tense at the question, not even understanding how to begin to answer. 

“Uhhhh…I don’t know, he’s just my dad?” I say. Matt gives me a questioning look. “He works for the school district? I don’t know–what do you want to know about him?” I push. Matt shrugs, scratching his jawline. 

“Well,” he starts. “--what do you guys typically do together? My dad takes us all fishing sometimes.” He explains, shrugging his shoulders. 

“We’re not really that close, I guess? He works a lot.” I opt out. I mean, he does. Matt nods his head. 

“Can I ask you something?” I nod. “--and I want you to be honest, okay?” I continue bobbing my head up and down, nerves flooding my body as his eyes meet mine. 

“Why did it hurt when I barely touched your hair the other day? Why did you lie about it?” He asks. My stomach churns, my hand becoming clammy in his. 

I clear my throat, my eyes leaving his. “Matt, I-,” I start.

“Did he do it?” He cuts off. My eyes flicker back up to him as I sigh. “He didn’t mean to--actually.” He gives me an unconvinced look, shaking his head with a clenched jaw. “--I’m serious! He’s trying to stop drinking, he grabbed onto my hair by accident.” I emphasize. 

Matt grasps my hand tighter, pulling it to his mouth as he plants a kiss on it. “You can’t be living like that. That’s not okay.” He states. I know it’s not okay, but I’m not ready to give up on him. It’s gonna hurt. 

“I know, Matt. He’s been making progress.” I explain. Matt sighs. “You’re welcome here anytime. Please just—please call me if you ever need anything.” His blue eyes seep into mine. “--please.” He finishes. 

I nod my head, squeezing his hand reassuringly. “I’ll try–I don’t know why, but asking for help is just….it’s just hard.” I express softly. 

His lips tug into a smile. “I know, but it’s good to get out of your comfort zone. Speaking of–what’s your first task for your list?” He asks. 

I lick over my lips, prodding my tongue in my cheek. “Honestly–I’m really scared of having my nails done.” I joke. 

“Ha-ha.” Matt says in a flat tone. He grabs my hand, looking down at my nails. “I’ll paint them if ya tell me something that’s on your list?” He offers. I nod my head, watching as he stands up.

_

“Don’t look! I want it to be a surprise!” He warns. I giggle, keeping my head turned to the side. I feel the wetness on my fingernails as he blows air onto my hand. I feel him press softly into the painted nail.

“They’re dry! Here, now you can look.” He says. I whip my head around, bringing my hands up to my face with a gasp. They’re painted a pastel blue. The edges are neat, not a single drop of paint staining my cuticles. 

“Thank you, they’re perfect!” I remark, pulling him into a hug. I make sure to keep my fingers flared up to the air, unsure of how the polish works. 

Matt hugs me back tightly before I pull back, admiring the nails once more. He laughs at my reaction. “They’re all dry, but I would be careful.” I nod at the directions, taking a mental note. 

“So,” he starts. “What’s first to-do on your list?” He asks. I suck in my bottom lip. He massages my hand in his as I let my mind wander to depths I typically avoided. 

“I don’t know…” he gives me a knowing look as I huff. “Promise you won’t judge?” I ask. He separates his hand from mine, pulling out my pinky and looping it into his own. I laugh at the innocent gesture as he squeezes my hand back into his grip.

“I pinky-promise. Now, start talking, sweetheart.” His accent is thick as the name rolls off his tongue. My cheeks feel hot as I let my eyes wander down to our intertwined hands. My fears and doubts fade as his thumb grazes over the back of my hand. 

I look up, meeting his piercing gaze. His lips are tugged into a reassuring smile as I bite the inside of my cheek gently. “I-uh…I’ve always wanted to go to the playground, I guess? I just–I didn’t really get to go a lot as a kid, but I feel weird going as an adult.” I let out a nervous laugh. 

My brain swarms with thoughts as I anticipate his response. “Oh!” I gasp, an idea flickering in my head. “--I’ve always wanted to color in a princess coloring book, I never got one as a kid.” I explain. His blue orbs meet mine, squinting from his cheeks curling up from his light smile. “--sorry, we don’t have to do–” he cuts me off, leaning in. His nose brushes against mine, his breath fanning over my lips.

“Good thing I have a printer, hm?” My eyes light up with excitement as I watch him reach over, pulling open his nightstand drawer. He pulls out a colored pencil box as I shift my shoulders with anticipation. “Here, find a couple pictures you like while I go do something, okay?” He says. 

I nod, hesitantly grabbing his phone as he sets it in my hands. “It’s 2-5-8-3.” My fingers type the code, the phone unlocking. 

_

Matt held the array of papers in his hand as he grabbed me by the hand, looping it around his arm and leading me into his neighborhood park. It wasn’t far from his house, but he had insisted on driving. His other hand held a blanket and a tote bag. He had refused to tell me what was inside of it, the curiosity eating away at me with each step we took. 

He laid the blanket out underneath a large, oak tree. He set down the bag, placing the papers down underneath the box of pencils to ground them. Matt had dressed me ridiculously warm, even though the snow had all melted. The subtle breeze was chilly, but definitely not cold enough to require a winter coat, gloves, and a hat. 

I had taken them all off, starting to sweat. He gave me a knowing look before I grabbed his hand, placing it onto my slightly damp forehead. He muttered under his breath, handing me a clipboard and holding out the coloring pages. 

I picked the sheet of paper that had initially grabbed my attention. A princess that had curly-ish hair. She wore a corset and a dress underneath, singing to animals in the woods. “Is Aurora your favorite princess?” Matt asks. 

I shrug. “I’ve never seen any princess movies. Not since before I can even remember.” I state. His eyebrows furrow as he nods his head slowly. “Don’t worry, I’ll catch you up on ‘em.” He expresses softly. I give him a soft, appreciative smile. 

“So,” I pull out the green colored pencil, shading the bottom of her dress carefully. “--who's your favorite princess?” I ask. I focus on the task at hand, my tongue slightly poking out as I concentrate on keeping the color within the printed line. 

“I’m not really sure, to be honest.” He answers. “--my favorite sidekick has to be Pascal from Rapunzel, though. My man is really doing the most.” He jokes. I take a mental note, nodding my head. He pulls his phone out, handing it over to me. 

“Here,” he opens it with his face ID. “--play some music, whatever ya want.” He offers. I smile, clicking on a couple of songs as the music plays softly in the background. He reaches into the bag, pulling out an array of bagged snacks. Chips, cookies, even candy and sodas. 

“Matt!” I exclaim, my heart filling with warmth as he shoves the treats further towards me. “--you didn’t have to do all of this!” I let out. He opens the soda can, pushing it into my hands. “I know, I wanted to.” He states. 

I sip the sugary liquid, coughing at the unfamiliar tingle. When’s the last time I had soda? “I haven’t had soda in forever.” I say, slightly embarrassed. He shakes his head, taking a swig of his own drink. “This one is my favorite, I love rootbeer. Do you have a favorite?” He asks. 

Do I have a favorite? I clear my throat, my chest constricting slightly. I don’t have any favorites because I simply don’t know. “Like I said, it’s been awhile, I don’t really know.” I say, twisting my lips to the side as I bite on the inside of my cheek. 

“That’s okay,” he smiles down at me, his eyes seeping into mine with a comforting reassurance. “--I didn’t know my favorite princess, either, remember? We can figure it out together.” He says. I feel the smile form on my face as I look back down to the paper. 

“This was really sweet, Matt. I really appreciate it.” I express. My head wanders upwards, seeing him scratching at the back of his neck nervously. He clears his throat. “I was-uh…I was hoping–maybe this could be our second date? It doesn’t have—” He stumbles over his words, his eyes looking to the side of my head. 

I reach my hand out, letting my fingers rub over his shoulder. “Matt, I’d love that.” I express. His eyebrows raise with surprise. “Really?” He asks. I give him a curt nod. “Really.” I say. 

_

The snacks were almost all nearly gone, the sky turning from a pale blue to a cotton-candy sunset. We had played like kids on the playset for hours on end. My hands were calloused from the monkey bars, my legs sore from running from Matt chasing me. 

No fears, no ghosts looming over my shoulders. Just us. “Gotcha!” He yells, tackling me in a bear-hug from behind. I giggle uncontrollably, my chest heaving with gasps of air. I didn’t know if it was the fact that I was full or if I had slept like a baby with him last night. Something told me that it was just how he made me feel, but I was bursting with energy. 

He curls his head into the crook of my neck as he sways us side-to-side. His pants fan across my neck, my heart racing as I lean into his touch. “Gotcha.” He repeats in a whisper. I let out a soft laugh, letting the giggles die down as we stood, watching the sun sink below the horizon in front of us. 

I turn my head around, meeting his eyes as he gleams down at me. The golden hue highlights his features perfectly, carving out his face like art. “You look beautiful.” We both speak at the same time. I laugh, feelling his chest rack with vibrations from behind me. 

We fall into a comfortable silence, our eyes lingering together. He pulls me closer to him, his lips against my head as he speaks. “You are beautiful.” 

_

Walking back to his home in a comfortable silence was peaceful. We laid down in his bed, tangling our limbs together. 

“What’s the scar on your arm really from?” His voice slices through the calm silence, my body tensing at his words. I don’t answer, I can’t find the words to answer. “It’s from him, isn’t it?” He continues. I nod my head in his chest, fiddling with the horse pendant that loops around his neck. 

“It was years ago. It’s the only time something like that has ever happened, I swear.” I promise, looking up to his somber eyes. He gulps, his clouded eyes flickering closed. He lets out a deep breath, pushing back the hair from my face. His delicate touch leaves a warmth. 

“Promise me,” he swallows thickly, looking down at me. “--promise me that’ll you’ll tell me if something ever happens.” I let my eyes flicker down to his necklace, the cold metal weighing down my fingertips. 

“Nothing’s gonna happen–” 

“Promise me. Please.” He urges. I look up, peeling his hand away from my head. I take his pinky, looping it on my own. “I promise.” I say, looking between his eyes. He nods before nuzzling me into his chest. 

It’s the truth. He wouldn’t mean to hurt me–I knew that. The regret on his face after I had screamed out from the cigarette burn haunted my thoughts. Deep down, I knew it haunted his own too. 

_

I woke up in my own bed this morning. I clung onto the soft, purple sweater in my sleep, dreaming of him. I couldn’t recall what the dream had enquired about, but I woke up with a smile etched on my lips softly. The rumors had died-down at school, classes passing by as Matt and I kept exchanging glances throughout the entire school-day. 

He had forced Chris to sit in the back, despite him bickering back. He did the same as we drove back to his home, making Chris pout like a child from the backseat. “I have hockey practice tonight, but I figured–”

“SHUT UP! MADI’S COMING OVER! WANNA HANG OUT?!” Nick cuts off. I nod my head, laughing at his excitement. He claps his hands, his grin growing on his face. 

“We’ll be back at like 6, I think.” He adds. He drops Nick and I off, heading back to school with Chris happily returning to his usual seat in the front. They drive off, Nick dragging me into the house with passionate steps. 

_

Madi had arrived soon after they left. The more we talked, the more I wanted to keep talking. She didn’t make me feel judged, she just simply wanted to get to know me. We had briefly talked about Matt–she explained how they only dated because they felt like they had to. The pressure of highschool got to their heads, but they returned to being friend’s without any awkwardness. 

The boys had returned back from hockey practice, sweaty and gross. But, they were also starved. Marylou and Jimmy had prepared dinner. We all sat, small conversation ensuing while we laughed. None of the people at the table were family, but it felt like they were. 

After eating, Matt had taken me up to his room despite Nick and Madi’s groans. He sat me down on the bed. “Give me five minutes, I’ll be fast.” He muttered before racing into his bathroom. 

The water only ran for a couple of minutes before he walked out of the bathroom door. 

My eyes widen at the sight in front of me. His hair was slightly damp, darker than usual from the water. A pair of gray sweatpants hung dangerously low on his waist. I gulped, my eyes glued to his abdomen and displayed tattoos. 

I hear him laugh, laying down next to me. “You’re so respectful, hm?” He teases. I bite down on my lips, my cheeks burning from embarrassment. “--’s okay, come here.” He pulls me down to his bare chest. My palm rests on his bare skin, the touch making my breath feel uneven. 

“How was practice?” I ask. I trace circles onto his stomach, watching as his stomach clenches and unclenches from under my touch in the slightest. He grabs my hand in his own, holding it securely. I look up, seeing his eyes shut tightly. 

“If you want me to be able to think–you can’t do that.” He voices. I smirk, bring my hand back down. I repeat the same action, this time letting my blue nails graze lightly along his stomach hair that trails down. I hear him suck in a gasp at my touch. 

I continue the action, pulling myself up to his ear. “Maybe,” I swipe just beneath the waistband of his sweats, his lips parting. “--I don’t want you to think.” I taunt. I smile proudly, watching his eyes glaze over with lust, his eyes dilating while gleaming into mine. 

A knock on the door sounds, Matt groening and throwing his head back. “What!” He shouts, displeased. I let my palm rest back on his chest. 

“We’re all playing games, come on! Mom wants Y/n!” I hear Nick shout. Matt rolls his eyes. “Fine!” He yells back. I smile at his blank face, watching him rub along his jaw. He stands up, pulling a hoodie on. Offering me a hand, he pulls me up from the bed. 

He doesn’t take a step back. We stand face-to-face. His eyes flicker down to my lips. “Can I have a different hoodie?” I ask. Matt nods his head, walking over to his closet and pulling out a purple sweatshirt. He tosses it to me. 

I smirk, an idea popping into my head. Before hesitating at all, I pull the shirt over my head. I see Matt’s eyes bulge out of his head, his gaze focusing on my covered breasts. I put on the hoodie, walking over to Matt who stands frozen in place. 

I giggle, gripping his jaw playfully between my pointer finger and my thumb. “How respectful, hm?” I retorted. His tongue prods inside of his mouth at his cheek. He grabs my wrist, pulling my hand down with a smirk. 

“You really wanna play that game? Hm, sweetheart?” I squint my eyes at his words, shrugging with a proud smirk. “Nope, I wanna go play games with your family. I’m gonna go head down–I’ll meet you down there whenever you calm down.” I motion to his crotch, the slight bulge very apparent. 

A slight pink hue crosses his cheeks. I open the door, giving him a small wave. “See ya!” I say, walking down the hallway with light steps as the excitement brushes through my veins. 

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[sethrollinsxreader]

summary: Y/N is a virgin and doesn’t know how to bring it up. [word count]: 1.3k pairing: Seth Rollins x younger reader warnings: agegappp

The dim glow of the television cast a soft blue hue over the living room, its light flickering across the walls as Seth Rollins, a 38-year-old man with a physique honed by years in the wrestling ring, lounged on the couch. His brown eyes, usually sharp and focused, were now half-lidded, his attention split between the screen and the woman sitting beside him. Y/N, just 20, was curled into the corner of the sofa, her small frame almost swallowed by the oversized cushion. Her fingers toyed nervously with the hem of her sweater, her gaze darting occasionally to Seth before snapping back to the screen. The air between them was thick with unspoken words, a tension that had been building for weeks.

Seth’s hand rested casually on the armrest, his thumb tapping the fabric absentmindedly. He could feel her unease, though he couldn’t quite pinpoint its source. They’d been together for months now, their relationship a whirlwind of stolen moments and quiet evenings like this one. But lately, something had shifted. Y/N seemed distant, her usual laughter muted, her smiles fleeting. He chalked it up to the stress of her college courses, or maybe the pressure of their age gap something he’d always tried to brush off as insignificant. But tonight, as the silence stretched on, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to it.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice low and gentle. His eyes flicked to her, taking in the way her shoulders were hunched, her posture tense. She looked so young in that moment, her innocence a stark contrast to his world-weariness.

Y/N startled at the sound of his voice; her fingers stilled. “Yeah,” she murmured, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Just tired, I guess.”

Seth studied her for a moment longer before turning back to the screen. He knew better than to push, but the worry gnawed at him. He’d always been protective of her, maybe too much so. The age gap had never bothered him—he admired her youth, her passion, her untainted view of the world. But lately, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was missing something, that there was a part of her she wasn’t sharing.

As the credits rolled on the movie, Y/N stood abruptly, her movements stiff. “I’m gonna head to bed,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Long day tomorrow.”

Seth watched her go, his brow furrowed. Something was off, and he couldn’t ignore it any longer. He waited until he heard the soft click of her bedroom door closing before pushing himself off the couch. The apartment was quiet, the only sound was the hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. He poured himself a glass of water, his mind racing. What was she hiding? And why did it feel like it was something he wouldn’t want to hear?

The next morning, Y/N woke to the smell of coffee and the sound of Seth’s voice drifting from the kitchen. She lay in bed for a moment, her heart heavy in her chest. Last night’s anxiety had only intensified, the words she’d been too afraid to say lingering on her tongue like a bitter taste. She knew she had to tell him, but the thought made her stomach churn. What if he judged her? What if he thought she was too inexperienced, too naive?

She took a deep breath, steeling herself, and slipped out of bed. The apartment was warm, the morning sun streaming through the windows. Seth was at the counter, his broad back to her as he poured coffee into two mugs. He turned as she entered, his face softening at the sight of her.

“Morning,” he said, his voice warm. He handed her a mug, his fingers brushing hers briefly. “Sleep, okay?”

Y/N wrapped her hands around the cup, the heat seeping into her palms. “Yeah,” she lied, taking a cautious sip. “You?”

“Like a rock,” he said with a grin, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He leaned against the counter, his gaze studying her. “You’ve been acting weird lately. Everything alright?”

Her heart skipped a beat. This was it. The moment she’d been dreading. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words caught in her throat. How could she explain something she barely understood herself? The insecurity, the fear, the overwhelming sense of inadequacy that had been building since they’d started dating.

“I—” She paused, her eyes dropping to her coffee. “I don’t know how to say this.”

Seth’s expression softened further, his posture relaxing. “Hey, it’s okay. You can tell me anything. You know that, right?”

She nodded, though she wasn’t sure she believed him. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to meet his gaze. “I’m scared,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know what I’m doing, and I feel like I’m letting you down.”

Seth’s brow furrowed, confusion flickering in his eyes. “Letting me down? What are you talking about?”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed, the heat spreading down her neck. “I’m I’m not experienced,” she stammered. “I mean, I’ve never… I’m still…”

His eyes widened, understanding dawning on his face. “Oh,” he said, the word hanging in the air like a question. “You’re… a virgin?”

She nodded, her face burning. “I know it’s stupid. I’m twenty, I should’ve… but I just never felt ready, and now I feel like it’s too late, and—”

“Hey,” Seth interrupted, his voice gentle but firm. He stepped closer, his hands resting on her shoulders. “It’s not stupid. And it’s definitely not too late. You’re not letting me down, Y/N. You’re being honest, and that’s more than I could ask for.”

She looked up at him, her eyes searching his for any sign of disappointment, of judgment. But all she saw was warmth, understanding, and something else—something that made her heart flutter.

“I just—I don’t want you to think I’m a kid,” she said, her voice small. “I know we’re different ages, and I don’t want you to feel like you’re settling or—”

“Shh,” he said, his fingers brushing her cheek. “You’re not a kid. You’re a woman, and you’re amazing. The age gap doesn’t matter to me. What matters is you, and how you feel.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, her chest tightening with a mix of relief and something else—something she couldn’t quite name. She wanted to believe him, to trust that he meant what he said. But the insecurity was deep-rooted, a voice in her head whispering doubts she couldn’t silence.

Seth seemed to sense her turmoil, his thumbs brushing gently over her shoulders. “You don’t have to rush into anything,” he said, his voice low and reassuring. “We’ll take it at your pace. I’m not going anywhere.”

She nodded, though the words did little to ease the knot in her stomach. She wanted to be enough for him, to give him what he needed. But how could she, when she didn’t even know where to start?

As if reading her thoughts, Seth pulled her into a hug, his arms wrapping tightly around her. “You’re more than enough,” he murmured into her hair. “Just being with you is enough.”

Y/N closed her eyes, letting herself sink into his embrace. For a moment, the doubts faded, replaced by a warmth that spread through her chest. But as she pulled back, the questions returned, lingering just beneath the surface. What did this mean for them? Could they really bridge the gap between her innocence and his experience? And what would happen when the moment came, when she had to face her fears head-on?

The answers remained elusive, the future uncertain. But for now, she had his words, his touch, and the faint hope that maybe, just maybe, they could find a way to navigate the unknown together.

[emmawithtwoms]

House

@moonwater-microfic December 2nd -421 words

When Regulus started dating Remus in 6th year, he thought that no place would have ever been warmer than wrapped in a blanket on his boyfriend’s lap in the Gryffindor common room, in front of a fire.

But then they moved in together, and their little home, with the small reading nook Remus loved to curl up in, their small bedroom with the big bed and their lovely red kitchen, definitely became the coziest and warmest place he’s ever seen. 

Until he visited Lupin’s cottage. 

That was by far the warmest house he’d ever been in. The cozy living room, with the brown sofa filled with cushions, the lovely soft armchair that alway had a throw blanket on the backrest, the small coffee table, where you could always find a ridiculous amount of books, a chess set, some half full mugs and a flower vase, made Regulus forget what cold even felt like. 

Then the Big, spacious, green kitchen, where Mrs. Lupin, no, where Hope always had something on the stove: whether it was soup, cookies, tea, hot chocolate or some Muggle recipe, she always made sure that the bright kitchen always smelled amazing. 

The old wooden dining table was always decorated with a handmade centrepiece and a flower vase, where Hope put the fresh flower that her husband, or her son, gifted her every day.

Every single day, for the past 35 years, Hope Lupin had received fresh flowers. It was easy to see where Remus got his endless reserve of love from.

Then the small bathroom, with blue tiles and yellow carpets, the big bathtub and the small cabinets. 

And the bedroom. Remus’ old bedroom was just so… Remus. His bed was covered in a very coloured, very warm hand knitted blanket, his library was filled to the brim with books, knick knacks and pictures of his friends (and Regulus). His desk was under a big window, overseeing the beautiful garden and the edge of the small wood that confined with the village. The big wooden closet was overflowing with patterned sweaters and woolen socks, and was engraved with floral details. The bedside table was full: a book half read, a couple of half empty mugs, a small lamp and a picture of Regulus and Remus kissing in front of Hogwarts. 

For his whole childhood Regulus felt only cold, in his dark bedroom at Grimmauld place and his damp common room at Hogwarts, but then he met Remus Lupin, and he finally understood what it meant to feel warm.

[gg-xoxo]

My first shot at writing fan-fiction, because I’ve read way to many for it to be healthy 😂

——————————————————————————

Lily Evans had always prided herself on being independent. She could carry her own books, face her own demons, and fight her own battles. It was just how she was wired. But James Potter? He didn’t just challenge her independence; he wrapped it in a warm embrace and asked to be a part of it.

He didn’t try to smother her fire; no, James made it blaze brighter. He was infuriatingly persistent in the best ways—carrying her bag even after she rolled her eyes, pulling her into his lap mid-argument, and reminding her, in those subtle ways only he could, that letting someone care for you wasn’t a weakness.

On this particular Friday evening, Lily was perched on the Gryffindor common room sofa, legs curled beneath her, a book spread across her lap. James lay with his head resting on her thighs, his glasses slightly askew as her fingers moved absentmindedly through his messy black hair.

“Lils,” James murmured, his voice muffled as he turned slightly to bury his face in the soft fabric of her sweater. “I think this is my favorite thing in the world.

She laughed softly, eyes still scanning the page. “You say that about every new thing we do.”

“Yeah, but this one’s different.” He shifted slightly, his hazel eyes gazing up at her. “This one involves you and me and the best scalp massage I’ve ever had.”

She shook her head fondly, finally lowering her book to meet his gaze. “You’re impossible, Potter.”

“And yet,” he grinned, his hand reaching up to gently take hers, “here you are. Completely smitten.”

Lily rolled her eyes but didn’t bother denying it. She was smitten. Absolutely, head-over-heels, terrifyingly in love with James Potter.

—————-—————————————————————

Later that week, Lily found herself sitting across from Remus Lupin in the cozy Gryffindor common room. The fire crackled between them, and the soft glow of candlelight danced across the room as they sipped on goblets of wine.

James and Sirius had gone off to some wild escapade—undoubtedly involving the Invisibility Cloak and some elaborate prank—but Lily didn’t mind. Nights like these, spent in quiet companionship with Remus, were her reprieve.

“So,” Remus began, swirling the wine in his goblet like he was far older than seventeen. “How’s the love life?”

Lily snorted. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

He smirked. “Just curious. James hasn’t stopped grinning since the day you said yes. It’s almost concerning.”

Her cheeks flushed as she leaned back in her chair. “He’s… he’s something else, isn’t he?”

“That’s one way to put it.”

They fell into comfortable silence, the kind that only years of friendship could forge. Lily appreciated Remus’s quiet presence, his steady demeanor that balanced out the chaos of the Marauders. He was a grounding force in a whirlwind of laughter and pranks.

“I gave him flowers yesterday,” Lily said suddenly, her lips curving into a small smile at the memory.

Remus’s eyebrows shot up. “Flowers? You?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, feigning offense.

“Nothing!” He held up his hands defensively, though his grin betrayed him. “I just didn’t peg you as the flower-giving type.”

“Well, boys deserve tokens of love too,” she said matter-of-factly, taking a sip of her wine.

“What did he do?” Remus asked, clearly intrigued.

Lily’s smile widened. “He just… looked at them. For ages. Like he couldn’t believe they were his. Then he pulled me into this ridiculous, spinning hug, nearly knocked over half the furniture in the common room.”

Remus laughed, shaking his head. “That sounds like him.”

“Yeah,” she said softly, her heart swelling. “It does.”

——————————————————————————

James Potter had a gift for feeling everything. It was one of the many reasons Lily loved him, but it was also what worried her the most.

When James loved, he loved deeply. When he laughed, it was with his whole soul. And when he took on the burdens of others—whether it was Sirius’s fractured family, Remus’s guilt over his condition, or Peter’s constant insecurity—he felt it all as if it were his own.

Sometimes, it became too much.

Lily found him sitting alone in the Astronomy Tower one night, his shoulders slumped and his head bowed. He didn’t look up when she approached, but the way his shoulders relaxed ever so slightly told her he knew it was her.

“James?” she said softly, crouching down beside him.

He shook his head, refusing to meet her eyes. “I’m fine.”

She didn’t push, didn’t demand he talk. Instead, she settled beside him, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head on his shoulder.

They sat in silence, the cool night air wrapping around them like a blanket. Slowly, James’s breathing evened out, his head tilting to rest against hers.

“Sometimes I reckon I’m not strong enough for all of it,” he admitted quietly, his voice barely audible.

“You are,” Lily said firmly, her fingers intertwining with his. “You’re the strongest person I know. But you don’t have to carry it all alone.”

He turned to her then, his eyes glassy but filled with gratitude. “What did I do to deserve you?”

“You let me in,” she said simply.

——————————————————————————

For all his bravado and confidence, James Potter was a surprisingly tactile person. He thrived on physical affection—hands brushing, arms around waists, stolen kisses in empty corridors. But his favorite thing, without a doubt, was pulling Lily into his lap.

It didn’t matter where they were or what they were doing. If there was a chair, a sofa, or even just a patch of grass, James would find a way to settle Lily against him.

“James, I can walk, you know,” Lily protested one afternoon as he scooped her up and plopped her onto his lap in the middle of the library.

“Sure you can,” he said, his arms wrapping securely around her waist. “But this is more fun.”

Madam Pince shot them a glare from across the room, but James didn’t care.

“Are you always this ridiculous?” Lily asked, though she made no move to leave.

“Only when I’m madly in love,” he replied with a grin, pressing a kiss to her temple.

She sighed, leaning back against him. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“I’m lucky for a lot of reasons,” he said, his tone softening.

——————————————————————————

Lily was stubborn to a fault. She hated asking for help, hated the idea of being seen as anything less than capable. It was one of the things James adored most about her—but it was also the source of their daily battle.

“I can carry it,” she said firmly, clutching a stack of textbooks that looked like they were moments away from toppling over.

“Lily, just let me—”

“No.” She cut him off, her green eyes blazing with determination. “I’ve got it.”

James sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You do realize I’m not offering because I think you can’t do it, right? I’m offering because I want to help.”

“Well, I don’t need help.”

“Merlin, you’re impossible,” he muttered, though there was no malice in his tone. Instead, he reached out and plucked the top three books from her pile before she could protest.

“James!”

“Lily!” he countered, mimicking her tone. “This isn’t about you being strong. I know you’re strong. Stronger than anyone I know. But sometimes, letting someone carry a bit of the weight doesn’t make you any less strong.”

Her shoulders sagged slightly, and James knew he’d won.

“You’re annoying,” she muttered, though the corners of her mouth twitched upward.

“And you love me,” he replied, slinging an arm around her shoulders.

“Yeah,” she said softly, leaning into him. “I do.”

[ofthemorningstars]

Movie Night (kabukiaku AU)

TerzoMega ~ Smut below the cut

2.1k words

Ao3 Version

Based on the character depictions of Terzo and Omega that have been lovingly crafted by @kabukiaku , thank you so much for allowing me to create something based off of your characters, and for giving me guidance and insight along the way! They truly are so special to me, and writing them has been such a fun process!

If you enjoy this story, check out her other socials too!

kabukiaku's Ao3

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Omega is ready for date night with Terzo. Or is he?

---

Omega fidgeted in front of the door to Terzo’s chambers. He scanned his surroundings, making sure he hadn’t been spotted. Clutching the bouquet of roses in his hand a little tighter, he steeled himself and made his first tentative knock, wondering idly when the butterflies would still. Deep down, he knew they wouldn’t. 

Terzo wasted no time in answering, greeting him with a dazzling smile. Omega’s stomach did a backflip. 

“Ciao bello,” Terzo greeted him warmly, taking a moment to look him up and down. “Aren’t you looking dashing tonight,” he assessed, approving of Omega’s powder pink sweater vest and dark grey slacks.  Terzo stood on his toes expectantly, Omega leaning down to allow a kiss to the cold metal cheek of his mask.

“Come in, come in. Put your things down,” Terzo said, ushering him inside and taking the flowers with a playful bow. Omega obliged, setting his bag by the door. He’d needed to stop by his own chambers before their date; even though he practically lived at Terzo’s at this point, he had needed to refresh his ever-growing wardrobe that was accumulating in Terzo’s closet. Omega shuffled his feet, waiting awkwardly for Terzo to come back with a vase. Omega still needed him to take the lead, even after all this time. After a moment Terzo returned, carefully arranging the flowers before taking his hand and drawing him to the sitting room.

“Sit, sit. Make yourself comfortable,” Terzo instructed, letting his hand slide up Omega’s arm, lingering at his shoulder for a moment. Omega did as he was told, settling down at one end of Terzo’s plush purple suede sofa, propping himself up on an armrest. He watched as Terzo fussed with his beloved Stella, the antique projector that was his most prized possession; tonight was movie night. When he had selected a film and successfully set everything up, he beamed at Omega before shutting off the lights.

“You’re in for a treat tonight, my darling ghoul,” Terzo said as he took his seat at the other end of the sofa, curling his legs up under himself. “We’re watching The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari. A true piece of cinema history. I think that you will love it.”

Omega felt himself begin to relax more as the images flickered before him. He wondered why date nights always set his heart to fluttering; for all intents and purposes, they lived together, after all. But there was just… something about the formal nature of calling it a date. It was something that Omega had never really done before, not until he met Terzo. Terzo was different. He was special. He made Omega want to step outside of his comfort zone. To learn.

Terzo drifted closer and closer as the film progressed, spouting facts about the movie and its production all the while, and when his head finally came to rest on Omega’s shoulder, it was a welcome relief. Omega wrapped his arm around Terzo’s much smaller frame and pulled him snugly against his body. Terzo let out a little sigh.

When the film was over, they sat in silence for a few long moments, content in each others arms.

“So, what did you think, amore?” Terzo asked, running a hand across Omega’s chest. Omega was grateful that the growing blush across his cheeks was concealed behind his mask. He swallowed hard before clearing his throat. 

“I enjoyed it. I felt like the themes were very reflective of the time it was made in, yet still timeless.” He really had been listening intently to Terzo’s impromptu lesson. He always did, and he wanted to affirm to Terzo that he hadn’t been just talking to himself. “I can see many similarities to the more modern-day films you’ve shown me. It must have been very influential.”

Terzo looked pleased, rewarding Omega with a peck on the forehead of his mask as he went to stand up. “My my, you are such a quick learner, mia ombra.” Omega grinned.

They ended the night as they often did, with Terzo’s favorite, Metropolis. This time when Terzo returned to the sofa, he resumed his previous position, nestling firmly into Omega’s side. Omega hummed, content. Throughout the movie Omega found himself stealing longing glances at the human tucked beneath his arm, lost in the comfort of his warmth and weight and hanging on his every word as he continued to talk about what they were watching. He was enraptured. Omega would happily watch this film every night for the rest of his life if it meant that he got to hear this passion in Terzo’s voice. The film ended too soon, as always, and again they sat together in the quiet darkness.

Terzo turned to nuzzle his face into Omega’s chest, inhaling deeply, breathing in his scent, his hands beginning to wander. When Terzo’s fingers teased their way under the hem of Omega’s shirt and began sliding up his stomach, Omega’s breath hitched. 

“Grazie, mio caro. I know you have seen that one many times. It is just the perfect way to end a date, don’t you agree?” Terzo said, looking up at Omega through lowered lashes.

“Y-yes. It’s, uh… It’s an excellent portrayal of class divide. Really speaks to those at the bottom. To searching for a better tomorrow…” Omega stammered before trailing off as Terzo’s hand grazed his pecks. His face was getting hot. 

“Mmm, you are such a good listener.” Terzo craned his face up to place a kiss to Omega’s neck, then another, trailing his way up to the edge of Omega’s mask. He climbed onto Omega’s lap, tongue snaking out to take a lick up Omega’s thoat. Omega let his head fall back as Terzo began to move his hips, gently grinding down on him. Omega felt himself stir, repressed excitement that had built up all throughout the night bubbling to the surface.

Terzo’s hands resumed their explorations under Omega’s shirt before going to lift it from the bottom. Terzo’s eyes met his questioningly, asking for permission. Unable to find his voice, Omega nodded enthusiastically. Terzo’s answering smile made Omega’s heart skip a beat. Terzo removed Omega’s sweater vest and shirt in one go, being careful not to displace his mask when lifting it over his head. Omega sighed as the growing heat that had been trapped began to dissipate. Terzo’s hands greedily roamed the now-freed flesh, making stops along the way to tease, to tangle in the soft white hair he found there. His mouth reversed its course back down Omega’s neck, trailing licks and soft kisses down his chest. Terzo’s tongue swirled around a nipple and Omega tried and failed to bite back a moan, his breath echoing harshly in his mask. Terzo released him with a gentle smacking sound, looking up at him with hooded eyes. 

 “Would you like one more show before the night is over?” Terzo purred. Omega nodded, unsure of what Terzo was planning but eager to find out.

Terzo rose to his feet, slowly unbuttoning his shirt as he fixed Omega with a sultry stare. Terzo was close enough that their knees touched. He shrugged the garment from his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. His hands trailed down his own chest now, his stomach, teasing just under the waist of his pants. Terzo undid his belt, then his trousers, revealing a pair of black lace panties, the fabric straining against his erection. Those he took his time with, sensually sliding them inch by painful inch down long, shapely legs. By the time Terzo stood naked before him, save for his socks and garters, Omega’s own pants were painfully tight. Omega shifted in his seat, hands itching to touch but keeping patiently to themselves.

Terzo guided Omega into lying down on his back, fitting as much of his tall frame as he could on the sofa. Terzo straddled him, moving to undo Omega’s belt. He shimmied Omega’s pants down his hips, leaving his underwear on. Terzo cupped and rubbed Omega through the thin fabric, lingering at the growing wet spot sticking to Omega’s skin. Omega whimpered, hands drifting up above his head.

“Si. Mio amato monstro, always such a good listener,” Terzo cooed at Omega, leaning down to place a kiss where his mouth would be. Omega wished he’d taken off his mask, wished that he could kiss Terzo back, but with the way Terzo’s hand felt on him, he couldn’t have found the strength to remove it if he tried. Terzo began to move his hips rhythmically, his precum-wet cock gliding across the fabric of Omega’s underwear. Omega groaned.

Terzo’s hands teased beneath Omega’s waistband before dipping down below, pulling him free. Omega winced a little at the contact, overstimulated from the previous friction through the cloth. Terzo began stroking him with one hand, cradling his balls with the other. He bent down to run his tongue up Omega’s shaft, stopping to suck gently on his tip. Terzo touched himself, too excited by the noises Omega was making to wait. He fit as much of Omega as he could into his mouth and began to bob, Omega writhing beneath him. The room was beginning to spin.

Terzo pulled away to catch his breath, sitting up and leaning back on a palm, resuming pumping himself, his mismatched eyes boring into Omega. 

“You like what you see, amore?” Terzo said with a chuckle as a fresh drip of precum slowly trailed its way to Omega’s stomach. Indeed, he quite enjoyed what he saw. He must be a sight himself, he thought, sweaty and flushed and foggy as he was now.

Terzo leaned forward, rubbing their cocks together, and began to grind. One of Terzo’s hands found Omega’s above his head, fingers twining together. Omega’s free hand slid up Terzo’s thigh until it found its place on Terzo’s ample ass, squeezing firmly. Terzo’s mouth once more found a nipple and Omega threw his head back with an unrestrained moan. Terzo began caressing Omega’s chest, his belly, his hip, before reaching down to rub his inner thigh. Whimpering pitifully, Omega tangled his fingers in Terzo’s hair. His tail wound its way around Terzo's leg, needy. He wanted so badly to pull Terzo’s face down to meet his for a kiss, again cursing his lack of forethought.

When Terzo began to ride him faster, Omega let his arm fall uselessly to the sofa, fighting hard not to tear into the fabric with his claws. Terzo licked the side of Omega’s mask before nipping at his ear, his breath harsh against Omega’s skin.

“Omega…” Terzo whispered to him. “I want to hear you. I want to hear you say my name when you cum.”

Omega gritted his teeth, fighting with all of his strength not to finish on the spot. He began to move his hips in time with Terzo’s almost involuntarily, bucking hard when Terzo’s teeth sank into his shoulder. Fingernails scratched down Omega’s chest, stinging sweetly. Terzo released his bite to softly moan Omega’s name in his ear, over and over.

“Terzo!” Omega came with a cry, back arching, body trembling. Terzo gave a few more frantic thrusts before following behind, sighing beautifully. 

As Terzo fell to Omega’s heaving chest, Omega heard his own heart pounding wildly in his ears. They lay there in a heap together, a mess of tangled limbs, tail still clinging tightly. Omega rubbed soothing circles into Terzo’s back, although trying to steady himself more than his little human partner. When he had gathered the strength to do so, he lifted a shaking hand to his mask, taking it off with a sigh of relief before gently setting it down on the floor. He coaxed Terzo into lifting his head, finally pressing their lips together in a tender kiss. Terzo’s tongue licked up into his mouth, and Omega couldn’t help but smile.

“Mmm,” Terzo hummed, before letting out a small yawn. “Do you think we should go to bed now?” He looked dreamily sated.

Omega nodded, stretching languidly and becoming aware of how sticky his stomach was with both of their release. “Maybe a shower first, tesoro.”

“An excellent idea, my darling” Terzo said, cringing as he pried their bodies apart. He extended a hand to Omega after he’d made it to his feet, an offering Omega gladly took. His knees felt weak as he stripped his pants and underwear the rest of the way off, leaving them where they fell as they headed hand in hand toward the ensuite.

While they waited for the water to heat up, Terzo pulled him down for a kiss, soft at first, but quickly building. As they broke away to catch their breath, Terzo met his gaze, a hand finding its way to the back of Omega’s neck. 

Terzo smirked up at him, mischief in his eyes. “Maybe we have time for an encore, no?”

[whorediaries-09]

sweater weather;

pairing- roommate!sirius black x reader warning(s)- fluff, some silly banter, tad bit suggestive. (let me know if i should add more) a/n- aghhh just a brain rot 😞🤍. also this whole series is so self indulgent 🤭

masterlist of 'the seven lives;' series

the slut club

and now, so let me hold both your hands in the holes of my sweater

he doesn’t like cats.

much to his dismay, you’re bending down and cooing at the little kitten that curls up against your ankle. it has got soft blue eyes which reflect innocence. you run your fingers through its black fur, picking the small animal up. he likes the soft smile on your face. it fills his chest with a warm fuzzy feeling he can’t explain. neither can he explain why his heart skips a few beats when he notices the twinkling in your eyes. it almost makes him drown into a frenzy of warmth.

‘can we keep her?’ you ask. there’s something in your voice that sends sparks of electricity down his spine. it’s as if he’s known you his whole life. he doesn’t want to say no, but he can’t help it. he digs the edge of his boot on the loose gravel of the path. twirling around the loops grocery packet between his fingers, he whispers, scared to let the joy in your eyes leave.

‘no,’ he tries to predict your reaction, but fails to. surely the joy in your eyes melts, but the hope doesn’t. from what he knows about you, he knows you’re a stubborn person who stands their ground. you always get your way around in some way or the other. but you’re also a people pleaser. you hate it when you’ve to truly go against somebody’s wishes to do something you want.

so, he watches as you wrap the little kitten between the folds flannel you’re wearing. there’s a mischievous glint in your eyes, a small smirk between the curve of your smile. it’s the same one you wear when you read something mildly suggestive in your books.

‘please, sirius,’ you drawl. the kitten mewls from the folds of the fabric, her eyes glinting the same mischief as yours do. he feels his breath palpitate when you move closer, putting the face of the kitten closer to his.

‘look she wants to come with us too, that’s why she’s mewing,’ you justify. he gulps slowly, his barrier of rigidity slowly breaking. he feels his thoughts melt when he stares at your lips. even though he’s never touched them before, he suddenly thinks he knows them. he feels he can carve every shape, every curve of your body with his eyes closed.

‘okay,’ he gulps. you squeal, a quiet sound from your lips.

he thinks it’s melody to his ears.

*-

‘sirius!’ you shout across the room. your kitten, binx, is curled across your chest, purring away silently as you rub your fingers through her fur. you’re laying down, your feet thrown across the sofa, letting the nail paint on your toes dry. the mild winter allows a soft sunbeam to peek through the windows.

‘what?’ he asks, coming out of his door. he has nothing but a towel wrapped around his narrow waist. several tattoos are inked upon his porcelain skin with happy trail on his abdomen which traces down, leaving less to imagination. his hair is wet and droplets of water trace down his defined pectorals. while you’d been living with him for nearly 8 months now, you’d definitely never seen him shirtless. it makes your chest fill with a strange warmth. it makes your brain short circuit for a moment when he smiles, walking towards you.

‘like what you see?’ he teases, wiggling his eyebrow. you gulp slowly, before you regain your composure.

‘i can’t hear you over the loud music,’ you say, getting up. binx falls on your lap, and she scratches your arms with her nails.

‘hey hey, calm down little woman!’ sirius says, noticing her scratching you. he takes her into her arms, her little paws trying to scratch at a surface.

‘don’t do that to your mum,’ he says, looking into her eyes. she stops fidgeting for a bit, before she mews loudly throwing her paws on his chest and leaving a long scratch across it. it digs deep into his skin, letting out blood.

‘binx! you naughty menace!’ you scold as she scurries off, jumping from sirius’ hold.

‘asshole,’ he murmurs, grasping his wound.

‘i’ll patch it up for you,’ you say.

*-

‘do you trust me?’ you ask, holding the cotton soaked with the antiseptic with a pair of tweezers. you’re standing in between his thighs. he’s wearing nothing but grey sweatpants, being overly dramatic for the scratch on his chest. while you think it’s adorable, you’re sure it’s just for the shits and giggles.

‘i do, but i feel like I shouldn’t?’ he answers, grinning mischievously. he likes your form between his legs he thinks. it makes him go feral, you looking down at him while you fix his wounds. it makes his imagination go wild. the idea of you touching him while he’s half naked thrills something inside his stomach.

you slap him across his shoulder. it’s a soft playful blow and he laughs. his hands suddenly grip your waist, as he pulls you closer, almost mushing his face with your breasts. he watches the breath get stuck on your throat, as you wet your lip, tongue slowly darting out over your lower lips. you’re unconsciously leaning over his face, soaking the cotton ball into his blood.

he sneers as a soft burning pain grows, and his fingers dig deeper into your waist. you unconsciously arch your hips towards him, your hands falling on shoulder. the tension grows, and the heartbeats palpitate between the both of you. there’s a look of dreaminess in your eyes he’s never seen before. he thinks it makes him weak in the knees. you trail your fingernail on a tattoo, before rubbing the antiseptic on his wound.

your breaths are ragged when you finally close his wound with a patch. your job was done, you’d move away. you should move away. but his touch burns into your soul, but it isn’t enough. it feels familiar on your skin, yet so unfamiliar. you lean closer unconsciously as if from muscle memory. you cradle his face, your noses rubbing-

a loud noise of shattering glass distracts you. you pull apart, a flustered look on your face. heat occupies your skin as you crumble into a shell of embarrassment. he lets go of your waist, and you stutter,

‘binx- the little fucking minx-‘you say, before you run off.

*-

you’re carrying a cup of coffee in your hand, running late for your job. a piece of toast hangs from your lips, and you’re running around the house, trying to find your tie.

‘you can wear mineeeee,’ sirius drawls, closing the battered copy of ‘the picture of dorian gray’.

‘i could if you gave it to me!’ you shout, swallowing the last piece of the butter smothered bread.

‘you’ve a nice swallow game, i see,’ he muses. you groan, gulping down the last bit of your bitter coffee.

‘that’s a really bad one!’ you say, tucking your shirt into your trousers. screaming internally, you realize you can’t find your belt either. sirius enters his room, seemingly searching for his tie.

‘can you give me a belt too?’ you ask, hurrying off behind him. binx runs in front of your feet, and in an attempt to not fall on her, you fall on the floor with a thump, followed by sirius who trips on you.

his locks tickle your face, his grey eyes staring into yours with an intensity which reminds you a memory you never had. it’s a minor flash, something of a haze like dream, but you remember it so clearly. your breathing rages, hotness searing through you as his scent and warmth looms over you. there’s a glint in his eyes you can’t decipher, but your memory has it engrained. as if you’ve seen it a thousand times.

‘i like it when you’re under me,’ he whispers. it’s a low rasp, one you’ve never heard before, yet it ignites something in you.

something that excites you.

*-

he’s fleeing when he receives your call. your voice was a timid whisper when you’d called him, laced with fear. he hated it, he hated how it sounded. but when he arrives at the bar, he finds you completely safe, surrounded by your friends. you’re chatting happily, your skin flushed with the alcohol that renders through your body. he’s perplexed, till one of your friends spot him. she bats her eyelashes at you, whistling as he walks towards you.

‘what happened?’ he asks. he holds your fingers, gripping them tight. he’s trying to read through your emotions. he’s trying to read you through the happy smile and shining eyes. but he’s too distracted by how happy you look.

‘it wasz a prankh!’ you cheer happily, your drunk state rendering your words.

‘seriously?’ he asks, rolling his eyes. he’s smiling, he can’t help it. you laugh,

‘yess!’ you try to stand up, but trip on your heels instead. he holds you closer, letting you support your weight on him.

‘you’ve had too much to drink,’ he scolds. you gaze at him happily, your hormones getting the best of you.

‘i know!’ you exclaim, feeling the collywobbles consume you as his scent tantalizes into your senses.

‘don’t you think we should leave?’ he asks.

‘should we?’

‘yes,’ he says, pulling you closer. his fingers dig into your skin, feeling your touch. it calms his nerves. still, he needs to hold you closer, to feel you, to know you’re safe.

‘okay i’ll go. will you take me home?’ you ask, an innocence provoked in your voice. he feels himself melt, scarring him and his memories.

‘i’ll do. i’ll always take you home.’

*-

the stars are shining bright on the dark sky. you’ve his leather jacket wrapped around your form, as he holds you close. you reek of alcohol, but he doesn’t mind it. it’s infused distinctly with your perfume, and he finds his comfort in it.

‘hi,’ you say, wrapping your arm across his waist, pulling him closer. he presses a kiss on your hair, breathing you in. it’s perplexing, the burning emotions you let flee in his chest. the warmth he feels with your presence.

‘hi,’ he whispers back. there’s a glazed look in your eyes. he knows it. he remembers it. it reflects him, and he feels as if there’s no one in the world but you and him. his heart beats raggedly, and he’s afraid it’ll pop out of his chest, when you lean closer to him, pressing a soft kiss on his jaw.

‘you’re so beautiful,’ you say, snuggling against him. your heels click against the loose gravel of the path. it’s a moment of softness he wants to cherish forever.

‘but you’re hurting me…so much. i wish i could kiss you. i wish i could hold you like this forever. i wish i could keep you close with me, just for me,’ you ramble.

‘then why don’t you?’ he asks, his fingers cradling your jaw.

‘you’ll kiss me?’ he looks down at you, his eyes scanning your features. the cold air waves over your hair, and he holds your face between his hands. his fingers ghost over your lips. you lean into his hand, as he presses a soft peck on your chin.

‘i’ll do, when you’re sober,’ he promises.

*********************************

taglist - @reggieisfit @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @jamespottergf @eternallybipanicking (if you want to be tagged please reply under this post!)

[peariote]

Sydney Adamu - Blessed

for @wandaszn, who asked for some bottom!syd x reader :D warnings: soft smut, a lot of yapping, I've never seen the bear or been to Chicago so apologies for any inconsistencies in character or setting. also Cleo Sol reference b/c I was listening to her while writing this anyways first fic yippee!!

Small blessings.

That's what Sydney had.

A shitty apartment- but hey. The rent's low, and it has a small kitchen. She can't have a cat- her landlord would crucify her- but she wouldn't have time to take care of one anyway, with how much she works.

She has to take a bus that smells to work everyday it rains. Which is often. But it's only one stop and takes ten minutes, tops. She can deal with the woman with the yappy dog at seven in the morning, and the guy who always smelled like weed.

She found happiness in small things. Perfecting a recipe. A good day at the restaurant. Walking through the park on her one day off a month, getting pastries from a shop only a block from her apartment.

The big things came after she met you.

Now, she gets to come home after a long day to a bigger apartment, one that's less shitty. This one permits pets, allowing her to feel the brush of a orange, furred mass between her stepping feet as she crosses the threshold.

She can smell the takeout you'd gotten, the one night a week she's permitted you to (if she can cook for you, she sees no reason why you have to pay for someone to make it. She's totally not jealous). There's probably a plate set up, already in the microwave for her to heat.

She's not interested in that.

Her coat and bag are soon hanging from one of the racks on the wall, her boots discarded as well. She's already pulling off her sweater as she approaches your curled up form on the couch, your head already peeking out from the blankets. She can hear the soft voice of Cleo Sol in the air, the vinyl spinning happily with no potential noise complaint to worry about. Good neighbors are another unexpected godsend.

"Hey, Syd." Comes your soft, sleepy greeting. You're sitting up, the fabric slipping off of your form like water. Despite the cold temperatures outside, you're still warm as she sinks into you.

"Hi." She really, really doesn't feel like talking. It'd been a stressful day, the rush taking it out of the kitchen more than usual- especially with Carmy's ever-increasing perfectionism. Your coos in her ear are a welcome distraction, the kisses pressed to her neck a balm to her very soul.

Her hand wraps around the back of your neck, drawing your mouth to hers. She's ever so pliant after stressful days; she follows your lead easily as you lay her down on the soft cushions of the sofa you found (another blessing). The kiss you share is lazy, your warm hands softly snaking under her cotton bra to palm at her.

She can't focus on anything other than your hands, her lips stalling under yours- only opening to let soft, pleased sounds escape. It allows your mouth to focus on her neck, to drag down a beautiful throat, gleaming in the low lamplight.

She doesn't protest as you unclip her bra. A sigh of relief escapes her, the almost painful underwire that'd plagued her for hours no longer a problem. Another sigh, this one more a moan, sounds when your mouth meets the skin of her chest and envelops a peaked bud.

You linger there for a minute, pressing gentle kisses to every inch of skin you can. It makes the heat in her gut grow, like a bear rousing from hibernation- ever present, but dormant. Her strong hands meet your shoulders, her one callused finger rough. She's pushing you down towards the curling warmth.

Her hips lift as your hands meet the waistband of her jeans. The button slipping free makes her jolt impatiently. The slow drag of the zipper forces a whine free from her tensed throat. She's kicking the denim off before it even reaches her ankles, drawing a laugh from your throat. She almost kicked you in her neediness.

With the show you made of her pants, she's relieved when her damp panties soon follow. The sound torn from her chest when your mouth meets her is nothing short of guttural. Your tongue is warm as it sweeps through her folds, gently exploring the flesh you're so familiar with as if it's the first time. Little whines escape her, soft noises of pleasure filling the open living-room, joining the sweet mix of instruments and voice.

She almost sobs when you lap at her clit, her hands fumbling for something to grab- soon finding your roaming fingers, interlacing with them and resting, joined, on her heaving chest.

Her climax isn't something unexpected, doesn't creep up on her; it's a soft, slow build, the feeling of your tongue on her soaked flesh and your fingers in hers getting more and more intense with every passing minute. When your tongue moves, slipping down and in, her hips raise with a groan, fingers squeezing yours as she gushes on your tongue.

Her mind is gone to the heavens, even after you withdraw. When you curl next to her, throwing one of the many blankets over the both of you. Her lips lazily meet yours as she wraps her bare arms around you. Her expert tongue, refined from hours of study in the kitchen, tastes your mouth. The mix of sour her and sweet you may be the most exquisite thing she's every had.

Despite her nakedness, and the chill seeping in from outside, she drifts off, warmer than she's ever been, feeling so blessed to have your soft, solid form against hers and a lazy cat at your feet.

The music plays on. The snow still falls. However, nothing breaks the bubble, the home you've made with each other.

[sapphirothcrescent]

Imagine if Sephiroth came across a fan of his for some fan meet up PR stunt that's just an elderly woman who sees the bags under his eyes and how thin he's become and asks him if he's okay.

Cut to a few hours later, Shinra is freaking out their star is missing. No one knows where he is!!!!

Sephiroth is curled up in the elderly fan's house on her sofa, wrapped in a quilt lovingly made of various Sephiroth themed shirts and sweaters. In his arms is a Sephiroth plushie. He is surrounded by well treated cats.

He's passed out from eating a tray of cookies and an entire casserole of kugel.

[g1rlsp1ckins]

🍵 + ☕️ + 🍹 for the shifting ask game !

𝓢HIFTING 𝓐SK ✶ 𝓖AME

gonna do this ask game for my modern marauders dr!!

🍵 strawberry matcha . . . what scents remind you of your relationship? maybe this is a perfume or cologne your lover wears, a candle scent that reminds you of the soothing energy you feel around them, or an essential oil you spritz on your pillow before shifting.

- for this question, it reminds me of amortentia, so I'm going to talk about what i believe their amortentia smells like

˗ˏˋ Regulus Black’s Amortentia is a portrait of quiet mystery, each note unveiling a piece of his soul. The cool, invigorating breath of eucalyptus speaks of his composed exterior, sharp and untouchable, while the dark, velvety sweetness of black currant lingers—a hidden ache, a secret fire. Sandalwood weaves through, warm and grounding, a timeless elegance steeped in tradition. Yet, beneath it all lies the faint, familiar trace of a worn Quidditch jersey, a whisper of youth, mischief, and fleeting freedom. It is a scent both sharp and tender, cloaked in shadows yet endlessly compelling, like the boy it belongs to. ˎˊ˗

˗ˏˋ James Potter’s Amortentia is a symphony of scents, each note a reflection of his soul. The crisp breath of fresh spring air carries the promise of freedom, entwined with the rich, grounding warmth of cedarwood and the soft, worn leather of his trusted Quidditch gloves. Clean cotton lingers, a quiet whisper of comfort and care, while the bright zest of citrus dances like sunlight through leaves, sharp and full of life. Beneath it all lies the faint, familiar tang of broom polish, a secret ode to endless skies and dreams of flight. It is a fragrance bold, untamed, and unforgettable—just like him. ˎˊ˗

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☕️ hot chocolate . . . what does the winter season look like for you two? are you two the type to stay cozy inside and order takeout, or would you rather go for a walk in the snow ? do you celebrate any holidays, birthdays, or anniversaries together during winter?

˗ˏˋ Winter for Florence, Regulus, and James was a season of contrast—equal parts chaotic adventure and quiet intimacy, depending on their mood and whose idea won out that day. The three had a rhythm, balancing James’s relentless energy, Florence’s need for comfort, and Regulus’s fondness for quieter, meaningful traditions.

---

Snowy Adventures and Quiet Nights In

James was always the first to insist on going outside, dragging Florence and Regulus into the snow for impromptu Quidditch matches, snowball fights, or midnight walks through frost-covered fields. He had a knack for making even the simplest outing feel magical. Florence would usually groan and protest, but she secretly loved the way James’s childlike enthusiasm made her forget the cold. Regulus, on the other hand, would roll his eyes at James’s insistence but still end up trudging along, a scarf wrapped neatly around his neck, muttering about how reckless it was to be out in the freezing weather. Inevitably, James would charm Regulus into a snowball fight or convince him to skate on a frozen lake, and Regulus, despite himself, would find moments of joy in the chaos.

On other days, when the cold felt too biting or James’s energy waned, they’d stay inside. Florence would throw on an oversized sweater and curl up with a guitar, softly strumming as Regulus read beside her, his feet tucked under a blanket. James, of course, couldn’t sit still for long—he’d be in the kitchen trying to make hot chocolate (and inevitably burning it), or sprawled across the floor attempting to beat Regulus at chess. They’d argue, Florence would laugh, and the night would end with the three of them tangled together on the sofa, sharing blankets and trading lazy stories.

---

Holidays and Anniversaries

Winter was also a season of celebration for the trio. They always made a point of spending Christmas together, even if it meant sneaking Regulus away from his family obligations. Their Christmases were messy and unconventional—Florence would drag them out to a Muggle tree farm to pick the most absurdly tall Christmas tree, James would insist on decorating it with magic, and Regulus, ever the perfectionist, would spend hours fixing their chaotic handiwork. They exchanged gifts that were equal parts thoughtful and ridiculous: Regulus would gift Florence rare, vintage records he’d tracked down in obscure shops, James would give Regulus enchanted Quidditch gear, and Florence would crochet them matching scarves in their respective house colors (even if James teased her for the uneven stitching).

New Year’s was another shared tradition. James and Florence would somehow convince Regulus to attend whatever wild party he and Sirius had planned, but when the clock struck midnight, it was always just the three of them—standing on a balcony or huddled by the fire, toasting with stolen champagne and laughing about the past year.

---

Winter for them was a mix of tradition and spontaneity—a season of snowflakes and scarves, laughter, and love. It wasn’t perfect, but it was theirs, full of memories they carried with them long after the snow melted.

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🍹 margarita . . . what do summers look like for you + your s/o? are you two the type to lounge in front of a pool, or do you prefer to be at the beach? would they play mermaids with you in the sea, or would they rather collect seashells with you as you walk along the shoreline? what would a “beach episode” in your lives look like?

˗ˏˋ Summers for Florence, Regulus, and James were filled with sunlit chaos, late-night adventures, and the kind of warmth that came from having found each other. Where winter brought moments of quiet reflection and cozy nights, summer was their time to let loose and live in the moment.

---

Road Trips and Escapes

Florence had an old, beat-up Muggle car that barely ran, but she insisted on driving it anyway, blasting music from the crackling radio. James would sit in the passenger seat, hanging out the window with his sunglasses on, shouting directions as Florence rolled her eyes and ignored him. Regulus, who’d never even been in a Muggle car before, would sit in the back seat, arms crossed and quietly judging the state of the vehicle. Despite his protests about the lack of air conditioning and how “this car is an absolute death trap,” he couldn’t help but enjoy the freedom it brought.

They’d take off with no particular destination in mind—stopping at tiny cafes in forgotten towns, swimming in secluded lakes, and staying up until sunrise, lying on blankets in open fields to stargaze. James would try to drag them into every ridiculous roadside attraction, while Regulus would find the charm in places that surprised even him. Florence was the glue, balancing their extremes, taking Polaroids of James posing like an idiot and Regulus looking unintentionally beautiful in the golden light.

---

Beach Days and Bonfires

On especially hot days, they’d escape to the coast. James would be the first in the water, cannonballing in and splashing Florence and Regulus until they finally joined him. Florence loved the ocean—she’d paddle out just far enough to feel the waves’ pull, hair damp and salty, laughing as James tried to pull off some ridiculous underwater stunt. Regulus, true to form, preferred to sit on the shore with a book, occasionally glancing up to make sure neither of them drowned. But even he couldn’t resist when Florence dragged him in, her hand clasping his wrist as she grinned and promised, “It’s not that bad, Reg.”

When the sun went down, they’d build bonfires on the sand. Florence would bring her guitar, strumming softly while James roasted marshmallows (and inevitably set them on fire). Regulus would sit close enough to feel the warmth, watching the flames dance and letting himself relax in a way he never could anywhere else. They’d trade stories, teasing each other endlessly, until the fire burned low and they dozed off under the stars.

---

Lazy Days and Small Moments

Not every day was an adventure. Some days were spent lounging in the Lupin family’s garden, Florence sprawled in the shade of an old tree while James tried (and failed) to teach Regulus how to throw a Muggle frisbee. Other afternoons, they’d sneak into Sirius’s flat, where James and Florence would make a mess of the kitchen trying to cook, and Regulus would sip iced tea and pretend not to be amused by their antics.

---

Celebrations and Milestones

Summers were also a time for birthdays and milestones. With Florence and Regulus's birthdays so close, the days in between often became a blend of shared moments. On June 23rd or 24th, they’d hold an unofficial “in-between day” celebration—a mix of Florence’s chaos and Regulus’s elegance. It usually involves something spontaneous, like a bonfire by the sea or a road trip to a little-known village. These in-between days were carefree and lighthearted, a way for them to bask in the simplicity of summer and the unique bond they shared.

In true James fashion, he’d often joke, “You two are so lucky to have me around to make these birthdays actually fun,” earning an eyeroll from Regulus and a playful shove from Florence. But deep down, all three of them knew these days—filled with laughter, love, and a little bit of chaos—were the best part of their summer.

For Regulus, who had spent so many summers alone in the cold halls of Grimmauld Place, these moments were everything. With Florence and James, summer became more than just a season—it was freedom, laughter, and love. The three of them, in all their messy, imperfect glory, built a summer they’d carry with them long after the days grew shorter. ˎˊ˗

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this was incredibly long and tedious, but I have lots to say on the topics because I love my boys😭

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made by @g1rlsp1ckins

[discountdemonwarehouse]

Valentine's Day Special 2025 - Part 1

MDNI. This part isn't smutty, but the future ones are. Messing With the Missionary Man AU!

Part 1 - The Gifting Vinnie gifts the Papas Clone-A-Willy kits a few days before Valentine's. Thanks to @papasmicstand for the inspo behind this series :p Read on AO3

        It had started as a joke. A joke that may have involved too much liquor. Vinnie giggled quietly as she added four items to her online shopping basket, then four more products when the site prompted her to add suggested items to the cart. Terzo grumbled beside her, shifting and sliding his arm around her. "What are you doing, amore?" he mumbled, barely conscious. "Just reading something funny," she responded quietly. "Don't worry about it." He grunted in acknowledgment, his hand absently stroking her leg. "You should be sleeping…" his sentence slipped into a soft snore. "Soon," she patted his arm, fully aware he wouldn't hear her. Double checking the cart, she grinned and added a few other suggested items before going to the final check out page. "Options are always good," she murmured to herself. She put in her payment info and selected the fastest shipping method. There wasn't a lot of time before Valentine's Day and she was planning to surprise Terzo — and the other Papas.

        The large box was delivered to the Edinburgh apartment, and Vinnie had Chuck teleport her over to bring it in so she could get to work. Laying out the gift wrapping supplies she'd found, she cut open the large box, grinning like a maniac. Pulling out the brown packing paper, she couldn't help the joy she felt pulling out the four Clone-A-Willy kits, extra casting supplies, and the cock rings. Terzo was going to kill her — Secondo might as well, but the joke would be worth it. Chuck was snoring quietly on the sofa behind her, unaware or uncaring of the mischief his human was up to. Grabbing a stack of Post Its, Vinnie quickly scribbled four copies of "In case you need help keeping it up for the process — or after!" and taped them to the cock ring packages. Glow in the dark green for Secondo, neon purple for Terzo, glow in the dark blue for Copia, and for whimsy, glow in the dark pink for Primo. Vinnie was a tiny bit sad that the purple wasn't glow in the dark as well, but if Terzo complained she'd tell him to go fuck himself — with his own dick. This was as close as she could get to their obsessive colour coding with the website's offerings.

        She opened the black gift bags, tucking the items carefully inside before topping them with red tissue. Picking up the curling ribbon she'd bought, she mixed black and gold ribbon with each Papa's colour to indicate whose bag was whose. Smirking, she shoved them into a nondescript tote bag and roused Chuck. The demonic being snorted awake, giving her a half glare. "Sorry, buddy, time to go back. Let's put your sweater on and we'll go get a bacon butty before we leave though, okay?" The dog-like demon haphazardly rolled to his feet, shaking himself before stretching with a yawn. Vinnie helped him into the chunky dog sweater they used to disguise him in the regular world, and got her own gear on. Making a mental note to bring back a number of items so she'd have jackets and shoes in future, she headed down to the street, followed by Chuck. Finding the favoured chippy a few blocks down from the flat, she greeted the owner, ordering several bacon butties. "All for you?" he asked jovially, as he often did. "Only about half," she responded with a smile. "The rest are for Chuck." The owner greeted Chuck fondly, tossing him a piece of bacon. "Our favourite customer!" Vinnie laughed, and nodded, paying for her order. "You know, some days he brings us things. The oddest one though… I was trying to find a part for one of the appliances and he just… showed up with it." "Chuck is definitely, erm, special." She gave a nervous smile and a shrug.

        Omega greeted her in the papal apartment upon her return, eyes bright. "Bacon butties?!" he asked excitedly. "Yes, bacon butties," she responded, happily handing him four. "Is Terzo here or his office?" "He was in his office, but as soon as I realized you were bringing bacon butties, I came here. He might be on his way?" The ghoul grinned sheepishly. "I'm not sure I like how in tune you're becoming with me," Vinnie muttered. "Gonna make it harder to do things…" "Aww, c'mon, princess, it just means we're getting closer!" he teased with a smirk. "Who knows what it could lead to." "Calm down, lover boy." The apartment door opened and Terzo hurried in. "Did he eat them all? Or did Chuck get them?!" Vinnie held up two of the wrapped bacon butties, accepting her kiss on the cheek as Terzo took them and hurried to sit down. "What's in the bag?" he eventually asked between mouthfuls of food. "Oh, just a little something for you and your brothers. A little Valentine's Day gift." "Is that all you're going to tell me?" Vinnie nodded, taking a bite of her own bacon butty. "You can wait until I hand them out at the next family supper. It's only a few days away." Terzo pouted a little, and Vinnie shook her head with a playful sigh. "I should have left them in Edi, shouldn't I?"

        The family supper went as per usual — the brothers arguing about cooking, wine, anything under the sun. Gabe and Vinnie looked at things on their phones, and Val sat beside Copia reading a book. Finally, everyone had settled with their after-dinner drink of choice, and Vinnie pounced on the perfect opportunity. "I have something for everyone," she announced, pulling her tote bag from beside the sofa. Curious murmurings reached her ears and she quickly handed Primo, Secondo, Terzo and Copia their gift bags. Gabe's eyes widened. "You didn't…" "I did." She confirmed triumphantly. Gabe turned bright pink, and wouldn't meet Secondo's gaze or answer his questioning about what was going on. "Go ahead, open them," Vinnie invited. Copia was first to get the gift bag open, eyes nearly bugging out of his head when he saw the box inside. He stammered as he fumbled the items, cheeks darkening. Val leaned over to look, and Copia squashed the bag against his chest, muttering something like, "Don't worry about it." "What, did she gift you a sex toy?" Val demanded, half in jest. "Something like that…" Copia mumbled, still hiding the bag's contents.

        Secondo was next to open his gift bag, scoffing when he saw the contents. "Really?" he asked coldly. "Gabe liked the idea," she shrugged. Secondo gave Vinnie a very serious amount of side eye then looked at his partner. "You want this, eh?" Gabe's pink blush turned beet red, and he looked away from Secondo, uttering, "Maybe." Secondo smirked, pulling the box out of the bag to show off the Clone-A-Willy kit. "What are the other things in here?" "Well, if you don't want it to vibrate, you need extra silicone to fill it, so there's that. Also extra mold making stuff in case you mess it up." "And this?" Secondo asked as he held up the cockring. "Well, most of you are old men, figured you might need some help." Terzo let out a strangled sound from beside her, and she gave him a cool look. "What?" "You know exactly what, uccellina." "Yeah, yeah, you and Satan's boner pact. I don't know if your brothers have that." Terzo scowled at her, setting his bag down without opening it. "I'm not sure I want you this interested in my brother's cocks or sex lives." Vinnie rolled her eyes. "I'm not interested, Terzo; these are gag gifts."

        A quiet chuckle drifted from the other side of the seating area, and Primo sat with the box in hand, reading it. "Glow in the dark, hm? And pink?" He grinned. "It was the closet to red they had." "What am I supposed to do with this, fiordaliso?" Primo asked with amusement. "Make a copy of your dick," Vinnie stated bluntly. "You can decorate your office, or gift it to someone, or buy a strap if you're having some… performance… issues… Or gift the kit to someone else." She shrugged. Terzo sat beside her with a long suffering look. "You could put a copy of your dick in the archives," she offered helpfully. Terzo swore beside her. "Vinnie! Even releasing the Phallos Mortuus we didn't make a copy of Secondo's dick!" "Aw, are you jealous or worried that people might like their dicks more than yours?" "No!" Primo let out another entertained chuckle. "Many options. Thank you, Vinnie. If nothing else, the laugh does one good." Terzo rubbed the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. "We should leave." "Aw, c'mon, Terzo. Where's your sense of whimsy? You don't want a copy of your dick in the archives forever?" "That is definitely not where I currently want my dick." He stood, grabbing the gift bag, before grabbing her arm. "We'll see you later!" "Ooh, kinky!" Vinnie laughed, letting Terzo pull her towards the door.

Thanks for reading! I'll try to remember to come back and hyperlink these later when they're posted.

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

[hypersonic04]

'Tis The Damn Season

I know it's only september, but i just love writing christmas one shots so much lol. i hope you all love this because it was so comforting and cosy to write!!

word count: 3,574

Your boots crunch in the snow, muffled in the emptiness of the path you were dragging your suitcase down. You check your watch - half past two. You'd promised to be there by 1 o'clock, but work had kept you at your desk in London for an extra couple of hours.

If only they hadn't chosen a cottage in the middle of nowhere to be the family Christmas destination.

It was tradition: every year, on the 24th of December, everyone descended on your mother's best friends' cottage, hidden out in the snowy countryside. Fond memories of opening presents with your brothers and her sons, building their newly gifted race car tracks and trying to fit your Barbie dolls in their monster trucks. Now, though, things are different, evenings spent drinking wine and listening to how successful your brother's business is, rather than playing Monopoly and falling asleep on a 15 year old Ross Macdonald's shoulder. You cringe to yourself even now as you remember how clumsy and awkward you were - he was a couple of years older than you, and you vividly remember listening to him shyly talk about his band at the Christmas dinner table, cheeks turning pink and yours even pinker when he met your graceless, 14-year-old-crush gaze. You'd seen his success, and you were immeasurably proud of him, but there was always something that made your heart ache, seeing him on magazines and at awards shows, and knowing that your distant childhood memories were that, really: distant.

You almost cry with happiness when you spot the house in the distance. Your pace quickens, dragging the hefty suitcase along behind you. The sky is unbelievably clear and blue, the air crisp with December cold, a scarf wrapped around your neck and tucked into your coat. Your boots are rubbing at your ankles, your nose red and freezing - opening the door to the cottage you've been to every Christmas of your life has never felt as joyous as it does right now.

A room full of warm, lit up faces.

"She's here!"

The room glows with love. You're engulfed in hugs, kisses to your rosy, cold cheeks, your mum taking your scarf from you and a glass of mulled wine shoved into your hand. The Christmas tree stands in the corner, familiar ornaments hanging there like they'd been up since the previous year. You were the last person to arrive, one of your brothers sat on the sofa, Ross' brother attempting to kindle the fire, your other brother having an in depth chat with Ross' dad about Formula 1.

"You're freezing cold, my girl," Bella, your mother's friend, holds your hands in hers, "how have you been?"

She moves to hold you at arms length, looking at you like she did when you were a little girl. A fondness in her eyes, warm and homely, a sense of knowing.

"I'm okay! You know, busy with work and everything." Smiling at her, you squeeze her hands gently. Her eyes linger on you for a few seconds, lips forming a line.

"Well, you look as gorgeous as ever, darling." She tucks a curl behind your ear, tilting her head a little.

The creak of the stairs is what draws you away from her indistinguishable expression.

He's wearing a maroon knit sweater, dark wash, blue jeans, white socks padding down the staircase. His hair is what makes you swallow heavily, pulled back into a bun and his beard seemingly darker and a little longer than last time. He ducks his head under the beam when he reaches the last step.

"I've sorted the spare room, Mum-"

His face softens when he sees you. His mouth agape a little, stopping mid-sentence, the corners of his mouth curling upwards softly. He stutters over his words for a second before a string of 'hello's' and 'didn't know you'd got here's tumbled out of his mouth.

You can't hold back the smile that graces your face at the sight of him. It's Ross.

His mum steps to the side for a second as he makes his way over, raising her eyebrows at your mum like gossiping teenagers. You know exactly what they're insinuating, the same thing they've insinuated every year since you were about 13.

He smiles at you so softly, eyes creasing in the corner as he leans down to give you a hug. One arm wrapped around you shoulders, the other around your back, yours around his waist. The fabric of his sweater is so soft under your touch, his aftershave pleasant as you inhale gently. Closing your eyes for a second, you allow yourself to slot into his hold, the familiar pair of arms around you warming you up more than any fireplace or red wine ever could.

"What time did you get here?" He says, pulling away from you and shoving a hand into his pocket, the other coming up to scratch the back of his neck.

"About five minutes ago, I was running late anyway, but then the taxi driver wouldn't drive any further down the footpath." You laugh lightly.

"I'd have come to give you a hand if I'd have known, sorry, I-" He has an apologetic expression, eyebrows raising a little.

"No, it's fine!" You frown a little with a shake of your head, "I had no signal anyway, wouldn't have been able to ring you."

He nods in agreement, rolling his eyes, "I ask them all the time why they picked to live in the middle of a field." He laughs.

"Ross, did you take the turkey out of the freezer earlier?" His mum calls to him, the sound of her in the kitchen filling both your ears and nostrils, the delicious smell of Bella's famous Christmas Eve feast filling the room. He purses his lips, eyes going wide and a giggle escaping your lips, hand coming over your mouth.

"Shit." He laughs boyishly, "Didn't you ask Dad to do that?" He calls after her, walking off into the kitchen.

You stand there for a second, the grin on your face immovable, arms folded over your stomach.

"What are you smiling at, hm?" Your eldest brother raises his eyebrows at you teasingly, picking up your suitcase for you.

"Shut up." You huff, rolling your eyes in classic younger sister fashion.

The teasing about your crush on Ross had been a constant in your life. You'd never explicitly told anyone about it, but the way you reacted when they'd bring him up in conversation was enough.

"He's single, you know?" He mumbles as you follow him upstairs, into your spare room.

"Who's single?" You play dumb, keeping your eyes on the floor as he turns his head to you, scoffing.

"Oh, give it a rest. You bloody know who."

Setting your suitcase on the bed, he leaves you to unpack and get settled. It's the same room you stayed in every year - a singular, rectangular window overlooking the front garden, flowered wallpaper at Bella's persistence, her excuse being that she never had girls. The light blue bedspread brings back memories of Christmas mornings gone by, the boys waking you up because you were always the last one awake. Your mind wanders as you unpack, setting sweaters and mini skirts and sparkly New Years' dresses on the bed, so the tap at the door takes you by surprise.

"Sorry, 'didn't mean to make you jump." Ross stands in the doorway, greeting you with a creased grin.

"Oh, it's fine." You laugh softly, awkwardly even, playing with the hem of the pyjama bottoms in your hand. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, I was just wondering if you fancied going to the pub later? Rob said it's a pub quiz or something, thought you'd like it."

"Sure, yeah. I'll come." You nod with a sweet smile, watching as he nods back at you with pursed lips.

"We're leaving in about an hour, so..." His voice trails off a little, and you notice how his eyes move up and down your figure, blinking profusely. You suddenly feel conscious, standing there in a pair of old mom jeans and the most basic of t shirts, something you'd thrown on in a hurry. Christ knows what your hair looks like.

His eyes linger for a second, dropping down to the suitcase laid out flat on the bed. A smirk graces his lips, before turning on his heel and heading back downstairs, his footsteps light on the wooden floorboards. Your cheeks flush bright red when you turn back to the open suitcase - a pair of your laciest knickers, black with little frills on the sides, placed almost perfectly in his eye line, right next to a matching red pair. You stand for a second with your lips pulled inwards, closing your eyes. That did not just happen.

Post-unpacking, you head back downstairs and try to pretend that Ross seeing your underwear isn't the only thing consuming your mind. Everyone's sat around the living room, some Christmas special on the television, the faintest falling of snow like a picture through the window. It's getting darker, the warm glow of Bella's fairy lights in every nook and cranny bathing the cottage in the most festive light. It's freezing outside, but the company in the house makes it the warmest it's been all year.

Coats and scarves are donned, boots pulled on and hats on heads. It's the five of us, and the familiarity and nostalgia of it makes me feel warm. I look at their faces for a second, older yet the memories of our youth peeking through their boyish smiles and loud laughs.

"Be careful, you lot, it's really coming down now." Your mum looks through the kitchen window.

"And remember your key, Ross. I don't want you waking us up at God knows what time."

"Mum, I'm 34 years old, I've got my key." He rolls his eyes with a laugh, his mum fondly hitting his fleece-covered arm.

Your mum was right, the snow was really coming down now.

"Shit." You mumble as you stumble down the path a little, boots sticking in the snow.

The boys are a bit further ahead, as per usual, but Ross hangs back when he sees you struggling. He looks to them for a second, like he wants to tell them to wait for you both, but he decides against it.

"Shouldn't have worn those boots, you know. Docs are rubbish in the snow." He says, holding his hand out to you as you near him. You take it gladly, the material of your gloves sticking together. His hold is firm, keeping you stable.

"Alright, 'dad', bloody hell." You tease, the sound of his laugh heavenly.

"Sorry, sorry." He smiles, glancing down at you. He grins at the way the snowflakes settle in your hair, watching as you brush them off your eyelashes. "Always walking off and leaving us." He gestures to the three of them ahead.

"Some things never change, hm?"

"Yeah, I guess not."

He looks down at you for a second and you meet his gaze. There's something unspoken there, some ulterior meaning. He runs his thumb over your gloved hand, and you rest your head on his arm affectionately, feeling him squeeze your hand. There's a smile on both of your faces, knowing, just like his mum earlier.

"How's things with the band?" You ask after lifting your head from his bicep, looking up at him.

"Good, yeah. Really good." There's a look on his face that you don't always see when you're all sat around talking about work. He seems truly content, proud. "You should come and see us play. We're on tour in February."

Your face lights up at the suggestion and his stomach twists, the way your eyes widen and lips curve upwards making him toasty in the cold of the snow. It's darker now, street lamps lighting the path as you all trundle down it, but the glow that seems to exist when you're together is brighter than any of them.

"That would be wonderful." You smile sweetly and hold his arm with your other hand.

The boys wait up for you, and you find yourselves suddenly letting go of each other. They roll their eyes, surprised that the two of you are still keeping up with the 'we're totally not in love with each other' act.

The pub is bustling when you get there. Groups of friends who have evidently been day drinking laughing loudly, couples stood in dimly lit corners, music playing over the speakers. It's trimmed up with garlands and wreaths on every door, candles lit at every table. Ross heads to the bar whilst the rest of you find a table to sit at. You take the booth seat, as does Ross when he returns with five pints and a packet of peanuts, your favourite.

You do the quiz, and despite not winning, you treat yourself to a shot in the excuse of it being Christmas. Time passes on, people recommending songs and the night slowly turning into karaoke. You laugh into Ross' arm, slowly getting closer and closer to each other throughout the night until you're pressed into each other's side.

"I think I might go back, I'm shattered." Ross' brother yawns, your own nodding in agreement. You frown a little, looking at your still half full pint from the round that you'd payed for.

"We can stay, if you want." Ross nudges your side, your faces inches apart. "We're going to stay until y/n's finished her pint, lads."

They look between each other for a second before nodding in agreement, exchanging hugs with you and a brief "get back safe" before leaving. Your youngest brother pushes the door open with his back, giving you a thumbs up as he leaves, immediately making you roll your eyes at him.

"Do you want to stay for one more?" Ross asks as he watches you drink your current pint. You open your mouth and close it again, nodding perhaps a little too eagerly.

You never want the night to end. The rest of the evening is spent giggling together like teenagers over things that happened years ago, talking about past failed relationships, and everything in between. His arm is around you, the occasional kiss to your forehead or a hold of his hand.

"He didn't deserve you, y/n." He looks down at you with raised eyebrows and lips pulled inwards. "I knew it from the second I met him."

"Did you really?" You wince at the thought of everyone around you being able to see that your boyfriend is a dickhead, but you.

"Mhm, hated him. That was the worst Christmas of my life."

"Jesus Christ, Ross. I don't think he was that bad!" You laugh loudly and he shakes his head.

"What, watching him all over you for a week? Torture."

It takes you by surprise, and you can tell he's shocked at his bravery when he tales a rather large gulp of beer. You analyse his face for a second, a look of what might be panic on his face. He meets your gaze for a second before averting his eyes back to the dodgy singer doing a rendition of Last Christmas.

"Well, I never really liked any of your girlfriends, either." You quip, watching as he relaxes a little, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Oh, really? Which one?" He cocks his head upwards, looking at you with intrigue.

"What was she called, the really tall one? She pretended I didn't exist the whole time I was here, Ross."

"Oh, yeah..." He scrunches his nose up, "Sorry about that."

"It's okay, it was ages ago." You shrug.

You sit in silence for a few seconds, both of you pretending to watch karaoke, but rather pondering what the other had just said.

"I don't think I'd like any of your boyfriends, y/n." He says suddenly, looking at you intensely. You try to read his mind, to see if he's actually just said what you'd heard.

"Why's that?" You frown.

"You know why." He scoffs. Your eye contact is intense, immovable, the brown of his eyes almost like a honey colour in the light of the pub. Your eyes flick down to his lips, then back up to his eyes. You've been close to things like this before with him, sat perhaps a little too close together on the sofa on Boxing Day, or sharing a cigarette outside on the seat swing when everyone else is asleep, but never like this.

"I don't know why, Ross." You play dumb, the faintest smirk forming on your lips. He watches your mouth as it curves, his own mirroring you.

"Don't be like this." He laughs airily, his arm along the back of your seat, body tilted towards you.

The call for last orders takes you both out of your moment, almost like coming back down to Earth.

"We should probably go home."

"Yeah, you're right."

You stumble out of the pub, the snow still falling gently, your bellies warm from the alcohol and company.

"Come on, you." He teases, hooking his arm through yours.

"If I remember right, I think it was you that nearly decked it last time we went out, so I should be looking after you, really." You giggle, watching as he groans a bit, shaking his head.

"Why are you bringing that up, seriously?" He laughs, admiring how funny you find the memory.

"Wasn't it about here, as well?" You point at the street.

"Oh, give it a rest." He holds the hand that's hooked through his arm.

The walk back seems to take forever, the two of you laughing loudly and being silly, the smile on your face the biggest all year. The lights are still on when you get home, the cottage glowing like a beacon in the dark, white-covered field.

"Do you ever miss being at home? You know, when it looks so pretty, like this." You ask, walking hand in hand, a little drunkenly.

"I mean, sometimes. I think it's more about missing the people and what being at home usually means. Y'know, being with my mum and dad, and you and everyone."

You come to a halt on the path leading up to the house, turning to him for a second. He's illuminated by the warmth of the house, his coat zipped up right around his neck, cheeks rosy and eyes drowsy.

"Can't we just pretend for the weekend, Ross?" You look at him pleadingly and he frowns.

"Pretend what?"

"Like we're not terrified of ruining everything. Just for one Christmas, can't we just pretend that we're not scared of what might happen?"

He looks at you for a second, his eyes scanning over your face for some kind of secret, hidden message.

"Are you sure?"

You nod, your brow down-turned for a second as you worry that you have, in fact, ruined everything.

The kiss he places on your lips proves that wrong. He holds your face in both hands, yours firmly wrapped around his wrists, leaning into his kiss. It's even better than you ever dreamed of. It's warm, and gentle, and perfect. His eyes are starry when he pulls away, dazed even, and your heart feels as though it could burst.

"Can we stay together tonight?" He says lowly, faces inches apart and still resting in the tenderness of his hands. You hum with a nod, following him onto the porch and into the house. Bella must've left the lights on, because everyone's asleep. It's silent, TV off and bedroom doors shut, and it's like you're teenagers sneaking around.

You head upstairs and change into the checked pyjamas you'd bought especially for Christmas Eve. Looking in the mirror, your cheeks are full and aglow, curls soaked from the snow that'd melted.

The familiar knock at your door doesn't startle you this time. He's wearing a t-shirt and plaid bottoms, his hands on your hips already comfortable. He walks you back towards the bed, the backs of your legs hitting it and his hold keeping you steady. You can feel him smiling as he kisses you, pulling away for a second.

"I can't even tell you how much I've thought about this." He whispers, looking down at your lips. You run your hands through his hair, now down and making your stomach twist in ways you didn't know it could.

"Me too." You whisper back.

The opening of a bedroom door and feet in the hallway makes you freeze on the spot. Your eyes widen when the bathroom door opens, the room next to your bedroom, whilst his crease in muffled laughter. You hit his shoulder, hiding your face in his chest. The two of you stand silence until the footsteps have gone back the way they came and doors are closed.

"Oh my god." You sigh, shaking your head with a laugh.

The two of you settle in the single bed in your room, his warm hands under your pyjama top, calloused and rough fingertips against your smooth skin. It feels like making up for lost time, lost touches, nights when you've slept in an empty bed and wondered whether he's thinking of you too.

And although it's the same room you've always slept in for Christmas, the same bed sheets, its the warmest bed you've ever known that evening.

[ghosttotheparty]

a mess of holy things 10 also on ao3 // prev. // next

Two essays have been turned in. A third is halfway through its final draft. There are two stacks of flashcards stacked on Steve’s desk by the window, the corners of the cards curled from how many times Steve had shuffled them.

And Steve is tired.

He’s tired in a way he’s never been before. Not just physically tired, but completely drained. He barely wants to open his eyes when his alarm clock rings, barely wants to move enough to turn it off. He can barely think, barely focus his own eyes.

But it’s Saturday, and Steve hasn’t seen Eddie in two days. So he forces himself up. Forces himself to get dressed, brush his teeth, fix his hair, barely even noticing himself do it all, like he’s in a daze.

He’s grabbing his keys from where they hang from the doorknob when his phone rings, and he stops short. Looks at it.

Somehow he knows it’s his mother.

He sees her in his head, lounging on the sofa in the hallway, holding the phone, idly flipping through a catalogue. Waiting for Steve to pick up, to ask him how his classes are, go pretend nothing happened when he was home last. To make conversation for a minute and then to say Alright.

He doesn’t pick up.

The phone is still ringing when he shuts the door behind himself. And it’s like he can still hear it ringing even as he walks down the sidewalk, as he finds an empty seat on the bus, clanging around his head like it’s haunting him.

It only stops when the door swings open, and Steve’s eyes meet Eddie’s. His head falls quiet, and he wants to fall to his knees right there in the doorway.

“Hi.”

“Hey, beautiful.”

Steve cracks a smile, and he reaches up to wrap his arms around Eddie’s neck, stepping forward so Eddie can pull him inside, hugging him as Steve kisses him. Steve closes his eyes, lets his weight fall against Eddie, vaguely hears the door shut behind him. Eddie tilts his head, holds Steve’s face in his hands, kisses him harder.

Steve lets out a weak noise, and he gasps when they part.

Eddie’s thumbs brush over his cheeks. His lips brush Steve’s when he speaks.

“I got a client in my room right now, you wanna wait in the living room?”

Steve nods without opening his eyes.

“It should only take a few minutes, okay?” Eddie says softly, like he knows how desperate Steve is.

“Can I have another kiss first?” Steve asks quietly, almost whispering, and Eddie smiles, kissing him again. He licks across Steve’s lips, and Steve gasps, opening his mouth for him, fingers grasping the neckline of Eddie’s sweater. He clutches at him, clinging to him desperately, and Eddie’s hands are strong and warm as he holds Steve’s jaw and pulls away, teeth tugging at his lower lip.

“Open,” he says softly, and Steve looks at him, letting his head tilt back as his mouth falls open. Eddie is smiling, rough fingers pressing so gently into Steve’s skin, and he pauses before opening his own mouth. Steve sees his tongue flash, and he lets out a weak whine as Eddie’s spit falls to his tongue.

Eddie kisses him again as he’s swallowing, still holding his jaw, and then he whispers into his mouth.

“Gimme your jacket.”

Steve shrugs it off, lets Eddie take it, and it’s like his body is getting more and more tired with every second he spends here.

“Good boy,” Eddie murmurs, reaching past Steve to hang the jacket up on a hook. “Go on and wait in the living room for me, I’ll be right there.”

Steve nods, kissing Eddie chastely one last time before he goes, toeing his shoes off and pushing them aside. He hears a man’s voice as he’s grabbing a blanket from where it’s tossed into the corner of the sofa and wrapping it around himself.

“The fuck’s taking so long?”

And Eddie’s voice, sharp but still quiet like he knows Steve can hear them.

“I was saying hi to my boyfriend, you got a fucking problem with that?”

Boyfriend.

Steve likes that. He smiles to himself as he crawls onto the sofa and lays down heavily.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Eddie lowers his voice, and Steve lets his eyes fall shut, pulling the edge of the blanket up to his face, taking a deep breath, inhaling the faint smell of cigarettes and cologne. He drifts somewhere between awake and asleep, his body heavy on the sofa even though he kind of feels like he’s floating above it, like his body is falling. The floor outside the living room creaks after a while, and he hears Eddie’s voice, hushed and muffled.

“You wake him up and I’m never selling to you again. Get outta here.”

Steve smiles into the blanket. He hears the door open and shut, hears Eddie go to his room and tidy up, hears him go to the kitchen and wash the dishes. And Steve falls asleep.

He wakes up to Eddie’s fingertips trailing over the side of his face, light and gentle. His eyes flutter open and he inhales as they focus on Eddie’s face; he’s crouched on the floor next to the sofa, almost eye-level with Steve.

“Hi,” Steve says softly, sleepily.

“Hi, baby,” Eddie says. “You sleep okay?”

Steve nods, his cheek squishing against the sofa. Eddie’s fingers tuck his hair back, brushing it out of the way gently.

“What’s wrong?” he asks softly. Steve shrugs weakly.

“Tired.”

Eddie keeps touching his face, tracing a line between two moles, caressing his cheek.

“What time’d you go to bed last night?”

“…Midnight. Ish.”

Eddie lets out a breath like he’s disappointed, and Steve suddenly wants to cry.

“I have a big test coming up,” he says shakily, hand tightening on the edge of the blanket. “I was studying.”

“Studying ain’t gonna do much if you haven’t been sleeping.”

“I know,” Steve says softly.

“You’re gonna burn yourself out, Stevie.”

Steve looks away. He wants to hide his face under the blanket, but that would make it so Eddie can’t touch him. He wants Eddie to touch him.

God, he wants Eddie to touch him.

“You gotta rest,” Eddie says gently.

“I don’t know how,” Steve says, looking at him again. “No one ever taught me to rest.”

Eddie lets out another breath, but he just looks sad now.

“How do you want to rest?”

Steve shrugs.

“I don’t…” He hesitates, and he doesn’t want to make Eddie sad, but Eddie somehow silently prompts him to speak. “I don’t feel like I can rest.”

Eddie blinks, brushing his knuckles over Steve’s cheek.

“Like you’re not allowed? Or like you literally can’t?”

Steve pauses.

“…Both?”

Eddie clicks his tongue.

“Baby…”

Steve sighs and pushes himself to sit up. Eddie’s hand falls away, but he stays on the floor, looking up at Steve as he sits cross-legged, tugging the blanket so it’s wrapped around his shoulders. Eddie moves closer, shifting onto his knees and leaning so he can rest his face on Steve’s knee.

He looks up at Steve like he’s begging for something, like he’s a puppy, and he’s so adorable Steve can’t suppress a smile. He reaches out to touch him, running his fingers through his hair.

He touches his face next. Runs a fingertip down the bridge of his nose, over his piercing.

“You’re cute,” he says quietly.

Eddie blinks at him, smiling.

Steve traces his smile, runs his fingertip lightly over his lips. Eddie kisses it. He straightens his head when Steve leans down to kiss him.

Eddie smiles against his mouth, tilting his chin up to reach, and his hands are gentle when they find Steve’s knees, holding him lightly.

“I missed you,” Steve whispers into his mouth.

“‘S two days,” Eddie murmurs between kisses.

“God, I know,” Steve whines, and he knows it’s stupid that he’s so damn clingy, but Eddie doesn’t seem to mind, whispering a soft Oh, baby under his breath before he kisses Steve harder.

Steve holds his face, shrugging his shoulders, furrowing his eyebrows with the desperation of it. Eddie kisses him back just as desperately, rising onto his knees before he moves even closer, moving slowly, carefully, like he’s worried about scaring Steve off as he moves up onto the sofa.

He sits next to Steve, holding his face tenderly as he sucks on his lower lip. Steve hums, his shoulders falling. He bites back after a moment, his teeth catching Eddie’s lip, and Eddie grins, fingers sliding to hold Steve’s neck.

And the way he’s gripping him feels almost possessive, like he’s never going to let Steve go. And Steve likes it.

He lets out a weak noise, and Eddie pulls away. Steve’s eyes flutter open.

“Is this okay?” Eddie asks quietly.

Steve nods and reaches for his face, pulling him into another kiss.

“‘M resting,” he mumbles against his mouth. Eddie laughs, grinning, and Steve is kissing his teeth now, but he doesn’t mind. He wants to kiss anything he can, anything he can reach.

He whines when Eddie licks into his mouth, clutching at the front of Eddie’s sweater before he pushes him back. Eddie pulls away again, his mouth open as he breathes hard, lips shining, and Steve pushes him again until he falls back against the armrest of the sofa.

Eddie grins again, tugging Steve down with him.

“Alright?” he checks as Steve makes his way onto Eddie’s lap, as they get situated breathlessly, and Steve nods.

“Kiss me.”

“Gladly,” Eddie mutters, pulling him down. Steve lets him, smiling, holding his face, and he slides his fingers to Eddie’s neck. He’s warm here, and Steve can feel his pulse under his skin.

And then Steve can’t hear anything except Eddie’s breathing, except his soft hums and the wet sounds of their tongues sliding, licking, pressing. Eddie’s hands are firm as they run over Steve’s sides, squeezing and pulling.

When they part, they’re both panting, and there’s a string of spit between their mouths. Steve catches it on his tongue without thinking, and Eddie groans, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back.

“Sorry,” Steve breathes.

“The fuck are you apologizing for?” Eddie says, eyes still closed. Steve giggles, and Eddie smiles lazily.

He opens his eyes, and they’re dark and shining as he looks up at Steve. His hair is caught on the armrest, spread around his head, and he looks…

Heavenly.

Or something.

Eddie’s eyes drift. They find the cross hanging from Steve’s neck.

It’s dangling down, hanging in front of Eddie’s face, glinting in the light from the window, and Steve wants to rip it off and throw it across the room.

The air is tense as their eyes meet again, and Steve blinks his eyes as they start to sting. He wants to apologize, to move off of him and hide his face.

But Eddie just lifts his head a little bit, moving forward enough to catch the cross between his teeth. And he rests his head again, letting the cross fall into his mouth, past the line of his teeth, into the dip under his tongue.

Steve exhales, eyes tracing the gold chain that’s draping in the air, leading from his neck to Eddie’s mouth, and his whole body aches.

He leans down and kisses him.

The chain is cold where it’s pressed against Steve’s lips, but Eddie’s mouth is so warm. Eddie’s hands press more firmly against Steve’s waist, and Steve’s hands move to his neck, pressing under his jaw to find his pulse.

He pulls away after a moment. Eddie looks up at him.

Eddie opens his mouth after a moment, his tongue flashing at Steve as it dips to pick up the cross, and then he’s holding it out to Steve.

Steve looks at it. It’s shining, glistening with Eddie’s spit, resting on his tongue like a communion wafer.

Steve leans down again, kisses him open-mouthed and desperate, and Eddie lets out a small noise. Steve squeezes his eyes shut, furrowing his brows, hands pressing harder.

Eddie’s tongue slides between his lips, passing the cross into his mouth, and a moan escapes Steve. It’s warm from Eddie’s mouth, slick and clicking against Steve’s teeth as he kisses him. He pushes it back into Eddie’s mouth, smiling when Eddie’s breath catches.

Eddie’s hands tighten on Steve’s waist, squeezing him, and then he pushes himself to sit up, holding Steve in his lap. Steve whines, squeezing his eyes shut, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s neck, burying his hands in his hair. Eddie shifts again, pushing Steve back, carefully, gently setting him on his back, pressing him into the sofa. The cross falls into Steve’s mouth, clattering off his teeth.

“Fuck, Steve,” Eddie murmurs, lifting his head to look at him blearily, and Steve likes how he says his name. He usually prefers Stevie, sweetheart, baby, but just Steve’s name is enough like this: breathless and soft and tender.

Steve lets out another whine, closing his mouth and sucking on the cross, pressing it to the roof of his mouth. Eddie lowers again and kisses him.

Though kisses him may be a generous phrasing; it’s more tongue than lips, slipping across the seam of Steve’s mouth, and Steve groans, melting into the sofa, hands grasping the fabric of Eddie’s sweater. Eddie does it again, and he’s just licking Steve now, lapping at his lips, at the corners of his mouth.

Steve’s mouth falls open.

Eddie shifts to rest his weight on his arm, and he reaches up with his other hand, hooking a finger on the chain and carefully pulling it so the cross comes out with it. Steve watches it go. It’s gleaming with his spit, and Eddie’s eyes are trained on it before he lifts it to his own mouth, sucking on it for a moment before he lets it fall back to Steve’s chest.

Steve grabs Eddie’s hair and pulls him into another kiss, and it’s messy now, desperate and starved, like they’ve been away from each other for years.

Eddie’s teeth catch on Steve’s lip, and his tongue is slick as it presses into Steve’s mouth. Steve feels like he’s floating, like Eddie’s spit is some kind of drug, and he wonders how something so good can be bad.

Eddie lifts his head enough to spit into his mouth, and Steve groans, his eyes rolling back into his head. He wraps his legs around Eddie’s hips, pulling him closer.

When Eddie pulls away, gasping for breath, Steve’s skin is slick with spit.

“Okay?” Eddie says breathlessly.

“Mm.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Steve breathes. “…Like it when you kiss me like that.”

“Like what?” Eddie whispers. His breath cools the spit on Steve’s skin.

Steve swallows, exhaling.

“Messy.”

“Yeah?” Eddie murmurs again, leaning down to brush his nose against Steve’s. “You like it messy?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, and then he gasps and exhales shakily.

“Breathe,” Eddie whispers slowly.

Steve’s eyes flutter open, and he looks up at him.

He inhales slowly, and Eddie nods.

He exhales, almost sighing, and for a brief moment, it’s the only sound in existence. The soft rush of his breath, and then silence.

“Good boy,” Eddie says softly. It’s gentle in a way no one’s ever been to Steve, like he’s small, like he needs it. Steve’s eyes sting, and he blinks.

Eddie caresses his cheek gently, tracing a line over his skin, and he seems to hesitate for a moment, eyes flickering across Steve’s face.

“…You know I’d give you anything,” he murmurs.

Steve nods.

“You wanna feel messy?” Eddie whispers.

Steve nods again.

“You remember your colors?”

“Yes.”

Eddie smiles.

And it’s like the sun is beaming down at Steve. Like the sky has opened up above him, like the clouds have parted like the Red Sea.

Steve has never felt like this. He’s never seen anything like this, anything that’s made his heart skip a beat, that’s made his stomach do a somersault. He’s never seen anything so beautiful that he feels beautiful just by looking at it.

“God,” Steve breathes.

Eddie blinks.

“What?”

Steve blinks tears back, and his throat is tight as he looks at him. At the freckles on his nose, at the warm flush of his cheeks. At the metal pierced through his skin and the shine of his eyes.

“You’re so beautiful.”

Eddie blinks again, and his lips curve into a slow smile.

“You’re the only person that’s ever said that to me.”

Steve shakes his head.

“…That makes me mad.”

Eddie laughs lightly, leaning down and kissing his cheek gently.

“You’re sweet.”

Steve gazes up at him.

Eddie’s hair is falling around them like a curtain, and the weight of his body is pressing him into the sofa, and he’s surrounding him.

“I like how you make me feel,” he says softly.

“How do I make you feel?” Eddie asks, leaning down to nuzzle into his cheek again, his hair tickling Steve’s face. Steve closes his eyes.

“Good,” he breathes. “You make me feel so good.”

Eddie hums softly, pressing lazy kisses over Steve’s cheek.

“You deserve to feel good.”

Steve exhales, lifting a hand to hold the back of Eddie’s head, pushing his fingers into his hair.

A whimper escapes Steve’s throat when Eddie’s tongue brushes his cheek.

“Okay?” Eddie whispers against his skin.

Steve nods desperately. Eddie does it again, leaves a wet trail on Steve’s skin.

And he knows it’s odd. Eddie licking his cheek like this, like he’s ice cream or something.

But it feels good.

And when Eddie slips his tongue over the shell of Steve’s ear, the sound of it sends a chill down Steve’s spine. He clutches at Eddie’s hair, gasping. Eddie hums softly when he tugs at it.

Eddie kisses his cheek again, pressing kiss after kiss after kiss to him before he moves downward, his weight shifting over Steve’s body, and he kisses Steve’s jaw. Steve lifts his chin, taking a breath. Eddie’s teeth catch on his skin, and he lets out a whine.

“God, you sound so good,” Eddie whispers into his neck.

Steve hums weakly, pressing his head into the sofa, wordlessly begging for more.

“Is it okay if I leave a bruise?” Eddie asks softly.

“A bruise?” Steve repeats, his voice slurred, mumbly. Eddie hums affirmatively, pressing a slow, wet kiss to Steve’s neck, just under his ear.

“Right here.”

“Mm. Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, please.”

Eddie hums, nosing at his neck.

“So polite, baby.”

Steve beams up at the ceiling, humming as Eddie kisses his neck again.

“Wanna be good for you.”

“You are,” Eddie breathes. “Always so good for me.”

─────────────────

He’s glad this lecture is scheduled for the afternoon.

Because if he had to wake up even an hour earlier than he got up today, he would have just skipped and hoped for the best.

But it starts at one, in a few minutes, and he’s got a paper cup full of coffee set next to his notebook and the sleeves of Eddie’s hoodie pull down to cover his hands, the ends gripped in tired fists.

His eyes watch his professor prepare her notes, flipping through some sheets of paper. It’s quiet in the lecture theatre, his classmates talking quietly amongst themselves, laughing and passing papers back and forth.

He’s started by a hand landing heavily on top of his head, and he looks up to find Robin dropping her bag onto the ground, holding Steve’s head like a basketball.

“Morning,” she says dryly.

“It’s not,” he says in response, watching her sit down and draw her legs to her chest. She’s wearing colorful plaid pants, one pant leg yellow and the other red, and Steve realizes after a moment that they’re covered in patches of different plaid patterns, color-matched and hand-stitched.

“Why would I care?” she asks, leaning back in her seat, her shins resting against the edge of the desk in front of them. She looks at him, her eyes covered by her overgrown bangs, and Steve’s face flushes with heat when her eyes skim down to his neck and her eyebrows raise. “Fun weekend?”

“Yep,” he chirps, looking away bashfully, and she grins. “You’re not getting details.”

Her grin turns into a grimace.

“I didn’t ask,” she says before she leans closer, looking at him intently. “But if you’re offering—”

“I’m not—”

“C’mon,” she complains. “Gimme the hot goss, Steve-o, did you guys fuck?”

He looks at her sharply, glaring, face hot, and she grins again.

“Did you want to?”

“I didn’t even answer you.”

“You don’t have to, I can read your mind. Did you want to?”

“If you can read my mind, why are you asking me any questions at all?” Steve asks dryly, looking at her.

“Haven't quite honed my skills,” she says dismissively. “Did you want to?”

“Jesus, I— I don’t know. Maybe.”

She squeals, reaching out to poke his face, and he shushes her.

“It’s not a… It’s not a thing,” he says, quieting his voice as he swats at her once more. “We just… It’s new. Kind of.”

Kind of.

The kissing is new. The licking. The spitting. The humming and murmuring and whining. The soft babys and good boys.

But the fuzzy, floaty feeling that Eddie gives Steve isn’t entirely new. He hadn’t really noticed it until recently, but every time Eddie talks to him all gently and kindly, every time he touches him like he’s bound to break, Steve feels like he melts. Like he becomes a little less human and a little more… whatever he is.

Robin pokes Steve’s side and he jumps. She’s grinning when he looks at her.

“You’re so annoying,” he says.

He looks down at where their professor was, but she’s gone. She’s always forgetting something before the lecture starts.

Steve exhales. Robin is still looking at him as though in anticipation.

“Okay,” he says finally, turning to face her, twisting his fingers together nervously. “I’ve never actually dated anyone, or had… relations.”

“God, I forgot you’re from a cult.”

“It’s not a cult.”

She waves a hand dismissively.

“Go on.”

“I… Okay. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Like…”

He gives her a look, and realization dawns on her.

“Oh. Just experiment,” she says lightly.

“Experiment.”

“Okay,” she says, turning to face him, stretching a leg out to rest it on the edge of Steve’s seat. Their faces are close, and their voices are hushed so they’re almost whispering. Steve is very glad there’s no one around them. “Is this person you’re seeing nice?”

“Very.”

“So…” She shrugs. “Talk. Say you don’t know what you’re doing and try things together. See what you like.”

“Oh, God.” He lowers his head and covers his face, and she giggles, ruffling his hair.

“Or just experiment by yourself. See what you like before you do it together.”

“By myself?” he repeats, looking up at her, cringing. She gives him a look, raising her eyebrows. “Like… masturbating?” he says quietly, weakly, his face hot, and she laughs again.

“Yes, Steve, masturbating.”

He covers his face again, and she pokes his shoulder.

“Come on,” she says, keeping her voice down. “It’s normal. People do it.” He looks up at her. “Just give yourself a little—” She whistles, making an up and down gesture with a loose fist. “And Bob’s your uncle. You know what you like.”

Steve groans weakly.

He’d be lying if he said he hasn’t thought about it. Touching himself like that.

He thought about it last night.

He’d been working at his desk, and he’d set his hand on his neck as he leaned over his textbook. The heel of his hand pressed into the bruise Eddie gave him.

The pressure of it felt good. Not as good as when Eddie made it, when he dug his teeth into Steve’s skin and sucked hard enough that it ached. But good enough that it was distracting.

Steve’s thoughts wandered.

To Eddie’s mouth. To his teeth. His tongue.

His hands.

To the way he lifted his head when Steve whimpered to check on him. Asked him for his color, eyes shining with worry. And the way he lightened and smiled like the sun again when Steve chokes out a Green, Eddie, please—

So Steve kind of already knows something he likes.

Because obviously Eddie biting his neck had hurt. But he liked it.

God, he liked it.

So when he finally went to bed, stared up at the ceiling in the dark, he thought about it again.

He couldn’t not.

It wouldn’t leave him alone. The thought of Eddie’s teeth on him. Of the sound his tongue made against Steve’s ear. Of the weight of his body holding Steve into the sofa.

And Steve had…

Well.

His body responded.

So he took a cold shower.

Robin pokes him again and he startles. She’s grinning.

“You’re thinking about it.”

“Shut up,” he says, pushing her leg off his seat and turning away, but she just cackles. Steve hesitates, scanning the room for the professor again, but she isn’t there. “Uhm, have you…”

“Fucked?”

He huffs.

“Yeah.”

She takes a breath, finally looking away.

“I hooked up with a guy in high school, but I…” She trails off, gaze still averted. “I don’t think it’s really my thing.”

He pauses, looking at her curiously. She doesn’t say anything else, her nails flicking as she picks at the skin around her thumbnail, the same place Steve bites when he’s stressed. Her cheeks are tinted pink now.

“…Guys?” he asks softly, and she glances at him.

And then nods.

And he hates how scared she looks. Like he’d ever have a foul word to say about her.

“‘S my thing,” he says, shifting to face forward again, and a moment passes before her head turns toward him. He looks back at her, and their eyes meet.

Hers are wide, her lips parted, and then her eyebrows raise.

“His name’s Eddie,” Steve says quietly. “This hoodie’s his.”

“I knew you didn’t listen to Megadeth,” she hisses, and a laugh bursts out of him. “You’re serious?”

“Yeah,” Steve says shyly, turning toward her again. “He, uhm… He’s really great.”

She stares at him, and her eyes are shining more than usual, like she’s about to burst into tears.

And then she’s throwing her arms around his neck, nearly falling off her seat as she hugs him tightly, and he’s hugging her back before he even processes what’s happening. He squeezes his eyes shut, and a moment it feels like Steve’s been waiting for her all his life. Like she’s supposed to be here, in his arms, her hair tickling his face.

His arms tighten around her, and a part of him wants to pull her into his lap, but the lights dim and the professor’s voice sounds from down by the projector. They let go of each other and Robin turns her head away, her hair falling into her face as she grabs her bag and finds her notebook and a pen.

She scribbles down some notes with a shaky hand, and he wonders if anyone else knows about her. If he’s the first person she’s told.

He reaches over and holds his hand out, the back of it pressing to the cold surface of the desk, and she looks at it before she takes it, lacing their fingers. Her nails are painted red, the polish chipped and cracked. He squeezes.

─────────────────

He can’t stop thinking about it. It might not be healthy at this point.

He hasn’t done it. But he’s considered it.

But every time he’s thought about doing it, it’s like the crucifix on the shelf is glowing, burning a hole into his head like the red laser point of a sniper rifle. Like if his hand shifts even an inch toward his lap, God will take him out.

So he thinks about Eddie.

If Eddie touches himself. What he looks like when he does it. What he sounds like.

Steve likes how he sounds when they kiss. The soft hums and breathy murmurs he gives Steve like they’re gifts, carefully wrapped with a ribbon, tied with a bow. And he likes how Eddie touches him. Gently, tenderly. Like he’s tracing Steve’s veins from over his skin.

And Steve kind of longs for it. For Eddie’s touch.

He wants him to touch him everywhere. To cover Steve's skin with his fingerprints, his palm prints, to wipe away every inkling of fear Steve’s ever felt. To cleanse him. To make him brand new, born again.

It kind of feels like what’s what he’s doing every time he touches Steve. Even like this, just brushing his fingertips over the back of Steve’s hand, absentmindedly, like touching Steve is second nature.

They’re watching a movie. But Steve is distracted.

He watches Eddie’s hand touching his, looks at his trimmed nails that are covered with chipped black polish. (His ring fingernail is completely bare.) He looks at the way the lines of his tattoos have blurred a little bit. At the veins that stand out on his hand.

Steve spreads his hand open and lets their fingers lace. Eddie squeezes gently.

Steve looks at the side of his face. His expression is light, his eyes shining, reflecting the shifting lights of the movie and the golden light of the lamps.

Eddie lifts Steve’s hand to his mouth and presses a soft kiss to the back of it before he loses it and rubs his thumb across it like he’s rubbing the kiss into his skin.

And Steve gazes at him. He feels settled here, like his body is heavy, falling into the sofa, into Eddie. Safe.

“Eddie?”

“Yeah, baby.”

“…Can I ask you a question?”

Eddie squeezes his hand.

“Yeah, ‘course. What is it?”

Steve hesitates, watching the way Eddie’s eyelashes flutter when he blinks.

“Do you… Do you touch yourself?”

His voice is soft, nervous, and Eddie smiles at the television for a moment before he rolls his head along the back of the sofa, looking at Steve with shining eyes.

“Sometimes, yeah.”

Steve looks away, at their hands. He fidgets with Eddie’s fingers, squeezing.

“How?”

Eddie squeezes back like he’s reassuring him.

“My hand usually. Occasionally I’ll use a toy but my hand usually suffices.”

Steve’s mind reels at the idea of a toy, spinning as it tries to imagine what it could look like, what it could do—

“Can I see?” he asks quietly.

He finally lifts his eyes, looking at Eddie, who’s gazing back at him, amused, smiling.

“You wanna see me jack off?”

Steve’s face flushes with heat as he realizes what he just said, what he just asked for, and it’s so weird, why would he say that—

“If— You don’t have to,” he stammers out, shifting where he’s leaning against Eddie, and Eddie’s fingers tighten on his so he can’t move away. “It’s weird, I—”

“Hey,” Eddie says gently.

He pulls at Steve’s hand, and Steve looks at him. Eddie’s eyes are dark, and his tongue teases the corner of his mouth for a moment as he looks at Steve, scanning his face.

“You remember your colors?”

Steve nods. Eddie’s lips quirk into a smile.

“You can change your mind,” he says softly. “Whenever. You tell me to stop and I will.”

“You too,” Steve says, shifting closer. “You don’t— You don’t have to.”

Eddie looks at him, smiling.

“You’re sweet,” he says.

“‘S bare minimum shit, Eddie.”

Eddie’s smile spreads, and he leans in to kiss Steve, nipping at his bottom lip.

“Alright?” he asks when they part. Steve nods.

Their hands detach, and Steve shifts to face him more, some space between them to watch as Eddie reaches down to his lap and rubs himself over his sweatpants. Steve swallows.

“What do you think about?” he asks quietly. The movie is still on, but neither of them are paying attention to it.

“Lately? You.”

Steve blinks.

“Really?”

“Jesus. Yeah.”

Steve thinks about it.

Eddie touching himself, thinking about Steve. Laying in his bed, his hand pressing over his crotch like he’s doing now, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure.

“What do you think about?” Steve asks, eyes trained on Eddie’s hand, rubbing over his sweatpants. He’s grown under the fabric, tenting it, and Steve kind of wants to touch him.

Eddie looks at him, hesitating.

“Tell me,” Steve whispers, shifting forward a little bit. “I— I’ll tell you if I don’t like it, I just… I wanna know.”

Eddie’s head falls to the back of the sofa, hissing out an exhale, and he slides his hand under the waistband of his sweatpants. The hem of his shirt slides up, and Steve can see the edge of a tattoo on his stomach.

“Fuck,” Eddie says softly. “Just…”

“Tell me,” Steve whispers again.

“Think about…” His hand shifts under his pants, moving up and down, and he winces, gritting his teeth, his brows furrowing. “Shit. How fucking pretty you are.”

“Yeah?”

Eddie hums breathily, nodding, his hand moving again. Steve watches.

“What else?” he whispers.

Eddie is quiet for a moment, and Steve hears a soft, wet noise that makes his mouth water. His eyes follow the movement of Eddie’s hand under the fabric of his sweatpants.

“How fucking good you look under me.”

Steve’s cheeks are warm. He shifts closer and lifts a hand to trace a line over the side of Eddie’s neck.

“Feel good under you,” he says softly. Eddie groans, his hips shifting, pushing up into his hand, and he bites his lower lip. “Tell me more.”

Eddie’s eyes flutter open, and they’re glassy when they look at Steve. He looks like he’s going to cry, like he’s desperate, like he’s begging Steve for something he can’t say. And Steve wants to give it to him.

“Your body,” Eddie says quietly.

Something floods Steve’s veins, rushing through his body.

“What about my body?”

“Shit, Steve.”

“Please,” Steve says weakly, so close his chest brushes Eddie’s shoulder with every inhale. “I wanna know.”

Eddie looks at the ceiling as though praying for strength, and Steve smiles, gazing at the flush of his cheek.

“Your ass is fucking perfect,” he says, his voice wavering. Steve’s face lights up. Eddie scoffs.

“What else?”

“Your arms.”

Steve giggles, hiding his face in Eddie’s shoulder, tucked against his side. Eddie laughs lightly, shaking his head.

“My arms?” Steve says, still giggling, smiling brightly.

“So fucking hot, Steve.” They’re laughing, and Eddie’s breath catches in his throat. He lets out a soft moan, still grinning. “And your hands, fuck…”

“Really?” Steve laughs.

“God, yeah, you’re so…”

“What else?” Steve asks, setting his chin on Eddie’s shoulder, looking at him. Eddie is smiling absently. The wet sounds come faster, and Steve bites his lip, humming.

“The pretty noises you make when you feel good.”

“You like how I sound?” Steve asks softly, almost whispering. Eddie nods, furrowing his brows, his jaw clenching.

And Steve doesn’t know why, but it hits him hard. Eddie liking how he sounds, Eddie wanting to hear him.

No one’s ever wanted to hear Steve. He’s always been told to lower his voice, to keep quiet, to shut up.

Steve’s chest aches.

He lifts a hand and takes Eddie’s chin, turning his head toward him before he leans in and kisses him. Eddie lets out a surprised hum, his lips parted.

Steve kisses him desperately, holding his face, sucking at his lower lip, and Eddie hums again, turning toward him, grinning against his mouth when Steve lets out a groan. Steve’s whole body feels hot.

He opens his mouth. Lets Eddie lick his tongue.

And he moans softly, low in his throat.

Eddie hisses, pulling back, furrowing his brows again, eyes squeezed shut.

“Shit,” he says sharply. “Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit—”

He breathes heavily, and Steve looks at where his hand has stopped moving, holding himself tightly. There’s a damp spot on his sweatpants.

“Can I see?”

The words escape him before he can even think properly, and Eddie smiles loosely, lazily, kissing him again. He looks away, still close to Steve as he reaches down, pushing the waistband of his sweatpants down, bringing his boxers with them.

The skin of his hips and thighs is pale, milky white, dusted with dark hair, and Steve is mesmerized by it. There’s a tattoo on his upper thigh, the ink greyish-blue and faded, of an open safety pin. It’s small.

Steve’s eyes trail over his skin, tracing the soft blue veins that are visible beneath his skin, over the lettered stabbed into his skin, over the burning church. Until he finds where Eddie’s hand is wrapped around himself, fist loose as he shifts the skin up and down. The tip is flushed, and Steve’s favorite color might be red now.

He realizes he’s staring, but Eddie doesn’t seem to mind. He’s touching himself idly, stroking and pushing like he’s performing for Steve.

Who kind of wants to touch him. To feel the heat of his skin, the sticky wetness, the soft thatch of curls.

“Fuck,” Steve mutters.

His eyes jump to Eddie’s face, and Eddie is already looking back at him, eyes wide, a smile teasing his lips.

“Say it again,” he says softly.

Steve’s eyes fall to his mouth. His lips are shining, his bottom lip reddened from his teeth tugging at it.

“Fuck.”

Eddie grins, fingers touching Steve’s chin to pull him into a kiss, rewarding him sweetly for saying something so filthy.

Steve lets him lick his mouth open, reaching to hold his wrist in his hands, and he hums softly. His eyes are closed as their tongues slide, and he hears Eddie’s hand speed up again, smiling.

“Shit,” Eddie hisses into his mouth, his hand holding the side of his face. He’s breathing hard again, his forehead pressed to Steve’s, and Steve wants to take every breath straight from his lungs.

“God, Eddie.”

Eddie looks at him blearily, and Steve kisses him before he can have any doubts.

“Don’t stop,” he murmurs.

“Fuck.”

They look at each other. Eddie’s cheeks are red and his lips are parted as he breathes and his eyes are shining, and the movements of his hand jostles him enough that the thin ends of his hair sways a little bit.

And then he stops. Groans. Drops his head. Shudders.

“Steve.”

“Yeah?”

He lifts his head, panting, and then he’s releasing himself, lifting his hand between them.

“Spit in my palm,” he says breathlessly.

Steve looks at his hand. His palm is slick, shining, and Steve can’t help but reach to hold his wrist, pulling his hand closer so he can slide his tongue over it.

It’s a little salty, but he likes it.

He looks up at Eddie, head still lowered, and he feels oddly beautiful under his gaze; he’s looking at him like he’s in awe, like Steve is beautiful or something.

Steve holds his gaze as he gathers spit in his mouth, and then he lets it drop, watching Eddie watch him.

He releases his wrist, and Eddie pulls him into another kiss, sucking at his lip. Steve sighs, reaching to hold his face, and as he pushes his tongue into Eddie’s mouth, he wonders if he can taste himself. It makes his face flush with heat.

“Thank you, baby,” Eddie mumbles against his mouth. “Such a good boy.”

Steve whines, kissing him again.

Eddie hisses out a breath again, and the wet sounds resume, somehow louder than the movie that they’ve both forgotten about. Steve pulls away to watch, breathless, and Eddie takes the opportunity to kiss his cheek and then down his jaw and his neck. Steve lets him, tilting his head, letting out a soft noise when Eddie’s teeth tease his skin, watching Eddie’s hand move, watching him twist his wrist just right, sliding his skin back and forth.

“Does it feel good?” Steve asks, his voice rough. Eddie moans into his neck, nodding.

“Fuck, yeah,” Eddie chokes. “Feels so fucking good.”

His lips brush Steve’s neck as he speaks, and Steve hums, burying a hand in his hair, tugging lightly.

“I’m gonna fucking come, Stevie,” Eddie says against his skin. “I’m gonna come, I—”

“‘S okay,” Steve says breathlessly, whimpering when Eddie’s teeth close on his neck, biting as he grunts, his hips pushing up into his hand.

“Fuck—”

Eddie lets out a whine, breathing hard, and Steve feels like he’s fucking hypnotized, watching as Eddie comes, as it spills over his fingers, drips over his knuckles. Eddie lets out a choked off moan, his body shaking, and the air fills with the sound of his hand moving, his come slicking his way even more, until he finally slows to a stop with a shaky exhale against Steve’s neck.

“Fucking hell,” he grumbles into Steve’s neck, his hand falling away. Steve grins, running a hand over the back of his head, combing through his hair. The room falls quiet except the dialogue from the movie they were watching, but it sounds sort of muffled now, like Steve is underwater.

“You okay?” Steve says softly. Eddie hums. He’s still breathing hard, and Steve watches his stomach rise and fall, eyeing the end of the tattoo, wondering what it is.

“You?” Eddie asks roughly. Steve scoffs.

“I’m great.”

Eddie finally lifts his head, looking at Steve like he has to make sure, and Steve kisses him before he can say anything. Eddie’s come-covered hand lifts into the air like he doesn’t know what to do with it, like he’s surrendering, and Steve’s chest feels warm at the notion that Eddie doesn’t want to get him dirty. (He would let him.)

Steve licks into his mouth, moving closer, shifting onto his knees, and Eddie hums, tilting his head back to meet him.

“You’re so hot,” Steve murmurs into his mouth, and Eddie beams, squeezing his eyes shut. Steve kisses his teeth.

“Yeah?”

“Mm. Yeah. Fuck.”

“God, I love it when you say that.”

Steve giggles, wrapping his arms around his neck and kissing him again. Eddie lets go of him long enough to tuck himself back into his sweatpants, and then he pulls him closer with his clean hand, his dirty one still hovering in the air.

And Steve realizes he’s hard.

He doesn’t stop kissing Eddie. He tugs his hair a little bit, draws the curls into a fist and pulls, listens to the way Eddie moans softly. He lowers back down so Eddie’s head isn’t tilted back, and he holds Eddie’s face in his hands, cradles it, hums at the way Eddie’s hand finds his neck and holds it the way Steve apparently loves, with his palm to his throat, fingers wrapped around it.

“What do you want?” Eddie murmurs when they part to breathe (because unfortunately they both still need that; Steve wishes he could hold his breath longer, for hours on end, just so he could kiss Eddie endlessly).

Steve kisses him again as he thinks.

Because he wants a lot. He wants this. He wants Eddie.

He wants Eddie to touch him the way he’s thought about. All over, gently and tenderly and reverently, wiping away his sins and his fears. He wants to make Eddie moan again. He wants to come.

But the thought of it makes his stomach flip unpleasantly.

And he knows Eddie would give him anything.

“Just this,” he breathes, his lips brushing Eddie’s. “Just this for now.”

“Okay,” Eddie says, already kissing him again.

They’re there for a while before Eddie finally pulls away and says, “I need to wash my hands,” having forgotten about the come on his skin, tacky and unpleasant now. And Steve giggles brightly, peppering kisses across his face before he finally lets him go. Eddie goes to his bedroom and then the bathroom, carrying a pair o f fresh boxers.

Steve goes to the bedroom and lays down, looking up at the ceiling, listening to the tap running in the bathroom. He rolls onto his front, sighing, closing his eyes, tired like he’s the one that orgasmed.

He doesn’t open his eyes when Eddie comes back, listening to his footsteps across the floorboard, listening to the floor creak under him, and he smiles against the pillow he’s laying on when Eddie says, “Remember what I said about your ass?”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You’re giving me a great view right now.”

A laugh bursts out of Steve, and Eddie joins him on the bed, climbing on top of him and laying on his back.

“I’m sure you’re appreciating it.”

“Oh, I certainly am.” Eddie shifts to set his chin on Steve’s shoulder, softening his voice so he isn’t too loud in his ear. “That ass is a miracle, baby.”

Steve giggles again, and he hums, tilting his head, when Eddie tucks his face into his neck and kisses him. He knows Eddie is leaving a bruise on him again, and he thinks maybe Eddie likes to do that.

Leaving his mark on him.

Steve likes it too.

He drifts off in Eddie’s arms, his back to Eddie’s chest, Eddie’s heart beating against his spine. And Steve thinks he might be falling in love with the way Eddie’s heart beats. He can also feel it between his fingers when Eddie holds his hand, lacing their fingers together and squeezing gently as his breathing slows and becomes heavier. The pulse on Steve’s hand is steady, small and gentle against the thin skin between his fingers.

It kind of feels like Steve is holding Eddie’s heart in his hand, and as his mind darkens, as his body feels a little like it’s floating and spinning, in some odd, fluid space between wake and sleep, he kind of wishes that he could hold it in his hands. That he could cradle it against his own chest, that he could press it to his own until their veins and arteries twine together like vines, inseparable. Until their shades of red are the same, until Steve can’t tell his own pulse from Eddie’s.

His hand tightens on Eddie’s like he’s squeezing his heart gently, and Eddie sleepily pulls him back against himself more firmly.

─────────────────

He can’t stop thinking about it. Again.

Eddie takes up a fair amount of real estate in his mind.

Steve finds himself getting distracted while he’s working on homework, on essays, while he’s getting ready for bed, while he’s walking to the bus, to class. Even when it’s been less than twelve hours since he’s last seen him, he misses him.

But along with Eddie, Steve also can’t stop thinking about what Robin told him.

It’s normal. People do it.

It makes his face hot to think about. The way Robin poked at him, the way she teased him. She’d called it his homework after their lecture, and he’d wanted to push her pencil bag into her mouth to shut her up. As they said goodbye, walking down the hallway in opposite directions, Robin made the up and down gesture again, winking exaggeratedly, and Steve’s face turned red as he rolled his eyes in a begrudgingly fond way.

He does his best to not think about it (it being Eddie, Eddie’s hands, Eddie’s voice, Eddie’s dick) while he works (and while he’s in public, lest his body respond again), but his efforts are largely for nought. It’s all still there. Sitting in his head. Taunting him.

It’s worse at night. When there’s nothing to distract him, when he’s surrounded by the dark and the sound of his own breathing, as he wishes he could be listening to Eddie’s breathing instead.

He’s been trying to fall asleep for at least an hour now, staring up at the ceiling and waiting. But sleep doesn’t come to him.

It’s been like this for a while, usually on nights he spends by himself instead of with Eddie. He doesn’t even feel particularly tired. He feels like it should be mid-day, like the sun should be shining through his window as he just sits here, looking up.

He sits up against the wall, sighing heavily as he flicks the light on.

He supposes he could read, even though it usually gives him a headache. Maybe it’ll bore him enough that he’ll fall asleep.

But he doesn’t feel like reading.

He feels like kissing Eddie.

He always feels like kissing Eddie lately.

Kissing him. Touching him. Listening to him.

Steve huffs, letting his head fall back against the wall behind him. His hand itches to reach for his lap, but something holds it back, like his wrist is pinned to his side. He swallows, blinking as his eyes get used to the dark, to the dim light from outside.

He thinks about how Eddie did it, sitting next to Steve on the sofa, how he groped himself over his sweatpants like it was the easiest thing in the world, like it was normal. How he exhaled, how his eyes fluttered, how his voice became breathier as he talked to Steve.

Steve bites his lip, closing his eyes again, listening to Eddie in his head. Hearing his soft Fuck.

Such a good boy.

Steve furrows his eyebrows, his hips shifting, his hands clenching into tight fists. He fucking loves when Eddie says stuff like that.

He wants to be good for Eddie. Wants to be his good boy.

He holds back a weak noise as he slides down the wall, squeezing his eyes shut, and he finally tears his hand away from where it’s pressed to his leg, reaching for his lap and touching himself.

It feels good.

He exhales sharply. Presses his lips together and bites down. Somehow hears Eddie’s voice say That’s it, baby, there you go.

“Fuck,” Steve gasps, his hand tightening again, shifting, pulling, squeezing. He wants to call Eddie, to listen to his voice and let him know. To hear his gentle encouragement, his soft praises, to be good for him. But Eddie is working at the Hideout tonight.

Steve whines, his back arching, his head pressing to the wall. He’s already breathing hard, panting, his other hand gripping his blanket tightly.

He pauses for a moment, pulling his hand away, blinking his eyes open in the dark again. His eyes adjust, and after a few moments he can see himself in the dark, straining against the fabric of his sweatpants. He stares for a moment before closing his eyes again, taking a breath.

He slides his hand under the waistband of his sweatpants. His head falls forward when he feels the heat of himself against his hand, his skin hot to the touch like his blood is boiling. He copies what Eddie did, sliding his hand up and down slowly, hesitantly, his mouth falling open as he holds back another noise.

He buries his face in the crook of his other arm, squeezing his eyes shut, whining again.

And he really wishes Eddie was here, talking him through it all. Telling him what to do, whispering in his ear. Telling him how good he’s being.

Steve hisses as his hand chafes against him, wincing, and he withdraws his hand, pausing to catch his breath, hesitating before he lifts his hand to his mouth and spits in his palm. It’s gross, but he whines pathetically as he reaches down again.

It feels better.

“Oh, God.”

He squeezes his eyes shut, stifling a groan in his arm.

Eddie’s voice echoes in his head, murmuring softly.

Such a good boy.

There you go, sweetheart.

Steve’s muscles somehow tighten even as he melts against the wall, moaning softly.

He wants Eddie to touch him.

He really wants Eddie to touch him.

His head falls forward as he imagines it, as he thinks about Eddie’s hand touching him like this, leaning close to murmur in his ear. Kissing his jaw, his hand warm, his rings becoming slick—

“Eddie—” Steve chokes, leaning forward with a groan, and he bites his lip to silence himself, realising with a flush of heat that he doesn’t know how thick the walls here are.

You deserve to feel good.

Steve exhales roughly, letting his head fall back against the wall, his other arm tight around himself as his hand shifts again. His back arches as he gasps, his fingers tightening, and he lets out a moan that doesn’t even sound like him, high-pitched and whiny. He almost sounds like a girl.

He claps a hand over his mouth, breathing hard, and his face flushes with heat again when he realizes he’s fucking drooling, his chin wet. And it just makes him think about the way Eddie’s tongue feels against his skin, and then he’s thinking about Eddie licking his spit away, hungrily, desperately, and Steve feels like he’s losing his mind.

He’s crying.

But it doesn't feel like it usually does when he cries, when he feels small and helpless and pathetic, when he’s scared and miserable.

He feels so fucking good.

He lets out a quiet, stifled sob, and he wants Eddie, he wants Eddie, he wants—

“Eddie, fuck, please—”

He cries into his arm, his hand moving rapidly now, desperately, and he knows there’s no one to beg right now, but he wants to. He wants to fall to his knees and plead for it, tears in his eyes, to beg to come.

It’s so good.

Until it’s suddenly less good. Overwhelming. Too much.

Steve jerks his hand away, letting out a whimper into his palm, and then he’s gasping for breath, crying.

Bad crying, this time.

He’s trembling, and he wraps his arms around himself, squeezing, shutting his eyes tightly as he tries to catch his breath. He buries his face in his arms as he curls up into a ball, like he’s trying to hide from the dark, from the moonlight, from the crucifix on his shelf.

And he stays there when he finally stops crying, when he wipes his tears away on his sleeves, as he squeezes his eyes shut and tries to will away the cloud that covers his body. Every inch of him feels filthy, but it doesn’t feel good the way Eddie makes it feel. He feels like he has to scrub his skin clean, like he needs to scrub it until he’s bleeding, until he can’t even remember what he did wrong.

His lip trembles as he tries to fall asleep, as he tries to pretend it never happened, as he pushes away to feeling that he needs to pray, to repent, to confess. He feels sick.

He wants Eddie to make it go away. To make it all go away.

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